


Desperado

by lialibea



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Alpha Laura, Bittersweet, Feelings, Feral, Feral Behavior, Fluff, Hale Pack, Hannibal references, M/M, Pack, References to Hannibal (TV), Sad, different packs, feral wolves, i don't really know where this will end, melanchony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-04-01 13:51:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4022266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lialibea/pseuds/lialibea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Laura Hale sends Derek away to another pack he thinks his life will change for the worst. What the introverted werewolf didn't expect was for his life to change from an empty soliloquy to an actual dialogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No Words

**Author's Note:**

> This is my new brain child. Please be nice to him.  
> This little child is a current work in progress and I'll post the chapters as I write them. I just need a place to dump my thoughts, feelings and creativity so this is where I'll do it. Don't worry, I have a plan for my little newborn (and it's not super vague either). I'll post whenever I have time (probably twice a week). Also, I have no beta or whatever so if there are any mistakes in my spelling and/or grammar, TELL ME!

To wake up in the woods after having fought off yet another feral werewolf by himself feels like waking up from a coma. His body is sleep deprived and even if the fight itself hadn't lasted for long the after match had been, as always, messy. To dispose the scene of all the blood, body parts and of course, the whole corpse itself really was... something. Of course he'd dealt with the same thing over and over again for many years by now, but he'd never really gotten used to it. Ripping someone apart, feral or not, was still hard and whenever he saw the life sip out of the eyes... That was yet another person's life he had demolished. The first time he'd seen that energy drain out he'd let out a scream. High pitched, heart broken and afraid of his own acts. That time his mother had clutched his body tight, held him while he sobbed by the corpse he'd killed with his own bloody hands. Now he don't sob and he now doesn't have a mother who rocks him back and forth. The never ending mission to save the town he both despises and loves is consuming him. Derek is tired of it, to say the least.

That is why it feels like waking up from a coma. He gets up to his feet and stretches. The same aching muscles as yesterday, the same sticking odour that makes his nose scrunch together is still in the air and the same oily hair is hanging down in his eyes. His life is on repeat.

He sights as he starts walking home, not bothering to hurry. The knowledge that his sister Laura will scream her lungs out either way is nagging in the back of his mind, telling him to take his time. She keeps telling him that he needs to start caring _or else_. The conversation never goes on after that, she just drops everything, looks sad and disappointed. That is why he doesn't care. There are no consequences to what he is doing, whatever it is. He's learned that "it's destructive", that he "knows better than this" because he "is a grownup now" and that "if mum and dad was alive, they'd be mad". Yeah, but they're not alive, is what he wants to scream at her face. _They're dead_.

The cold and wet leaves gets stuck to his bared soles. It's autumn and the days are getting shorter and the temperature colder. Not that he really notices those changes anyway. His werewolf senses makes all seasons seem the same except for the colours and looks. To him, it seems as if those specific characteristics for the different seasons are more prominent than to others. Regular humans doesn't see things as clear as he does.

Twenty minutes later Derek is standing in front of the door to the house. The house that had burnt down just a few years ago. Derek doesn't like the new house as much as he'd liked the old one. No, the new one is too shiny, too new, too clean. When there had been eight wolves living in the same house it had been messy and even if he'd sometimes felt locked up he'd loved it most of the time. The closeness, the familiar feeling of _home and pack_. Now he mostly felt empty and the house made him sad; it was solely a shell of what used to be.

Just as he reaches for the handle, the door slams open.

"Where have you _been_?!" The dark haired woman Derek calls his sister, calls out in his face. She looks concerned, but the fact that she hadn't even tried to track him down and that he'd been twenty minutes away by foot, four minutes by paws.... Yeah, that fact tells him that she's beginning to give up on him and he doesn't know what to do with that data.

He just slips inside and Laura walks after him, closing the door behind him. The room reeks of distress and anger mixed up in an ugly way.

"There was a feral wolf again," he states and walks up to the fridge in the grand kitchen that is just next to the entrance. Laura follows him with swift feet. He can both feel and smell the anger growing inside of her and he continues to feed it by avoiding her eyes and the questions hanging in the air. Of course he knows what it all will end with and for some reason he keeps pushing, every single time, almost like he wants to hear her growl in anger, feel her buzzing energy when she restrains herself from pushing him off the edge.

But this time it's different. He can smell the fury but it doesn't grow when he keeps searching for something edible in the fridge. When he turns around with two bananas and two eggs in his hands the anger is gone. Instead the air is filled with something more complex and if he had the time to really sort out the smell for a while he'd say it smelled like misery, fondness and melancholy. The unease starts flowing through his system as the sudden change starts getting into his body. Derek swallows.

"My dearest little brother," she murmurs and takes two too slow steps towards him. As she quietly takes the two bananas and the two eggs out of his hands, places them on the nearest counter and then clasps her hands around his face, his tense body softens. He doesn't want it to happen and he holds on to his stone face until the very last second.

When she strokes his oily, black hair out of his face, his eyes start burning.

"What happened to you?"

Laura's voice breaks halfway through the sentence and now they're both in tears. They are hot and it feels as if they mark his skin as they make their way down his filthy face. Suddenly his lungs doesn't want to work and his breath hitches.

Derek's sister wraps her arms around his body. Soft strokes along his back and soothing words that she whispers in his ear makes him calm down. His nose is buried in her soft, chocolate coloured hair and she smells just like Laura and pack. Her smell is unique, just like any other being, and it was too long ago she scented him or the other way around.

"Derek," she says when his breath is back to normal and the tears doesn't burn as hot.

When he doesn't answer, she just slowly parts them and pierces him with her eyes.

"Laura," he responds with a hoarse voice.

She smiles a tired smile that speaks of fatigue and relief.

"I'm sorry," she says and before he has the time to respond or even think about what she just uttered, she continues.

"I'm sorry I've been a shitty sister. Hell, I've been both the worst sister and the worst alpha I ever could have been. You have no idea how angry I've been with you when in reality I should have been angry with myself. I'm sorry I made you come back here and I'm sorry I never talked to you. I think... I think that I blamed myself for the fire. I know that you blame yourself, Derek, and don't you dare do that. It wasn't your responsibility to check if the girl was crazy, okay? It's.... Fuck, Derek, you just have to let it go."

She keeps holding his eyes steadily even if tears start pressing out of her tear ducts once again.

He gets what she says, he really does. The truth is heart breaking and he just wishes that he could take the emotional sentences to his heart and really do something about his lugubrious state of mind. Instead of saying something that uncloaks his thoughts, he finds himself agreeing to what Laura said.

"I will," he says. The voice that comes out of his mouth is clearer and steadier than he thought it would be. The voice tells him that maybe somewhere inside of him he finds the sentence to be true.

Laura backs away from him and leans against the counter that faces him. They at each other for a few fragile seconds until Laura starts smiling. The smile is glad, sad and has a hint of predatory intelligence, hinting that she has come up with some sort of stupid plan that Derek knows he'll agree to. Either way, he smiles back tryingly and feels his forever cold body tingle with a warmth he haven't felt for a long time.

"Wolves heal quickly," she whispers, as if she's talking to herself. Derek chooses to ignore her.

"Derek, go and take a shower. Take those eyebrows down again, you really need it. Your hair is oily and you reek of that disgusting cleaning spray we use for hiding the stench of death and feral wolves."

After a second of him not moving she adds another sentence. "I'll make us something to eat."

That's it. He walks up the stairs without saying anything and without any arguing.

When he stands in the shower and lets himself dissolve in the hot stream he hears Laura's voice. She knows that the sound of the shower will cover up conversations held downstairs. Of course she had something in mind while being nice to him and getting him to open up. He mutters some swearwords under his breath but continues to let the hot water clean his disgusting skin. Part of him wants to run away and go packless but another, much stronger, part of him wants to let her take care of him, let her fix him. That's why Derek stays in the shower, shampoos his hair and cleans his dirty body like a good little boy. He has no idea how just one tearful talk with his sister could change his mind completely. Maybe his sister was speaking truth when she said that wolves heal quickly? But if taking his five years of not healing into counting it isn’t very quick, now is it?

Laura ends the phone call with: “Thank you so much. Just take care of him.”

A nagging feeling of unease starts chewing on his mind as he hears Laura starts slamming with food supplies, pots and other things which Derek cannot guess from the sounds. Instead he just concentrates on how the water licks his body.

Another ten minutes later, he steps out of the shower. For the first time in a long time he feels clean. His hair doesn’t feel heavy with dirt and his skin is smooth and doesn’t scratch as it did a few hours ago. Downstairs, Laura have started whistling a slow tune he can recall hearing when he was a kid. As he dries his body with the nearest towel his mind starts follow the tune and he mumbles the words to himself.

“ _Sing me to sleep, sing me to sleep_ _, I don't want to wake up on my own anymore_.” He realises how sad the lyrics sound as they go over his lips.

There are no clothes other than his ripped sweats that he wore when walking back to the house. So he wraps himself lazily in the towel and steps outside of the foggy bathroom. The three other doors in the hallway lead to empty rooms. One of them, their mother’s old study, works as a temporary office but it has never felt right when sitting in there. Laura have tried wholeheartedly to really integrate the empty rooms and do something with them but lately they have both given up on the impossible task to fill the whole house. Instead they just leave the rooms to be. Derek walks through the hallway which ends in a small sitting area with yet another three, not empty, rooms. The door on the left is his and he enters the big room. Opposite of the door there is a window that lets him see out over the trees. The sight is beautiful and the window is big enough for him to sit in. He have a lot of memories of him and his mum sitting there, her reading him stories about dragons and knights and him struggling to keep his eyes open. He smiles sadly to the memory and shakes the feeling of hopelessness off his mind. Instead he focuses on getting clean clothes. In the small dresser placed next to the big bed he finds a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt. He puts them on. He continues to just stand in the room for a while longer after that, lingering and uninspired to leave until Laura calls for him.

"Derek! Food!"

There comes a grumbling noise from his stomach when he makes his way down the stairs. Derek is hungry because he hasn't eaten since last night. The smell of fried eggs and bread reaches his nose and his hunger awakes. He takes a seat opposite of Laura and let his hunger take over. Basically, he throws himself over the poor egg sandwich placed on the plate in front of him. After three big mouthfuls he looks up and sees Laura smiling fondly towards him.

"What?" he manages to get out through his stuffed mouth. His heart doesn't particularly race when Laura's heart first skip a beat and then she looks away but it does something.

Quickly, he swallows the bite.

"What?" Derek repeats.

"You need to get away from here for a while," Laura starts and locks their eyes together again.

"I've made an arrangement with one of our allies. You'll stay there for a couple of months and get better. I think you need to find yourself again, Derek, and I really need to sort out a few things out here."

There goes the trust he had built up for her under their hour together. Derek gets mad at himself for always blindly accepting apologies but he gets even madder at Laura for deceiving him. Yet again.

"You think you can just send me off to some place when I'm a problem? You don't think I can handle myself here, don't you?" Angry, he throws his hands in the air and he feels his body tense again. He can no longer feel any hunger and the gap between them that he thought was finally about to start healing is brutally ripped open again.

"Laura, I don't think you understand. I trusted you yet again and this is what you do to me? You send me off to some stranger because you, the adult, need to fix some things that your baby brother just can't handle, because he's _oh so_ unstable?"

But Laura doesn't get that hurt on her face that Derek had expected. Instead, she just calmly stands up and wipes her hands on her torn jeans. She's sporting the famous Hale-facade, a poker face made of stone.

"Derek, you will do this," she then proceeds to say calmly. Her voice is no longer her usual Laura-voice and the calm and husky voice that comes out of her throat makes Derek want to throw himself on the floor, bare his neck and just _obey_. As if he has no own will, he does just what he felt like and when he lays there, right on the cold floor, he opens his mouth.

Derek realises that Laura just used her alpha voice. The alpha voice is something Derek never have heard her use before. Even when he was a kid and their mom was alpha he'd only heard his mom use it once and that had been a dire situation with two wolves about to kill each other.

"So it has all comes down to this?" he murmurs mockingly into the cold tiles. It feels pathetic.

"You will do this," Laura repeats in the same stone cold voice. A second later her voice grows softer.

"Derek, tomorrow I'll drive you to the railway station. You'll take the train I direct you towards, you'll ride it until you're told to exit and there your temporary pack will meet you. Do you understand?"

Derek doesn't say anything. He doesn't want to say anything, so he just stubbornly lays there, feeling like an idiot with his face pressed to the floor.

"Do you understand?" Laura thunders above him.

"Yes," he mutters and the invisible chains tying him to the floor loosens. When he once again is standing on his feet he just stretches his neck, snarls and sizes Laura with glaring eyes. The rage is back in his mind and as he turns on his heel and slams the door he can hear how Laura starts to sob inside of the house. Derek doesn't sob, he just takes off running in a pair of uncomfortable jeans, barefoot and with a shirt made of cotton.

*****

When he returns to the house several hours later, the sky is dark and he can no longer hear Laura's heartrending cries. Derek sneaks in, aware that Laura can hear him, and grabs some food. He ignores the cold egg-sandwich from earlier that Laura has put into plastic wrap in the fridge. Now his clothes are dirty again and his hair is once again hanging down in his eyes, blocking his view. His chest that was heaving up and down just a few minutes ago is now calm and when he lets his clothes drop to the floor he can feel a weariness coming over him. One could assume that it would make him fall asleep quickly but then one would assume wrong.

" _Sing me to sleep, sing me to sleep..._ " is what his mind keeps on repeating again and again. Not until the clock passes two is the sleep taking over his restless mind. To say the least, Derek doesn't sleep well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm, yeah, I know, a bit dramatic start for something good? Well, I was feeling horrible while writing this so... Yes. I hope you like it, because I do.


	2. A train ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so coming up with this story I had two different things in mind. ONE; the sentence "waking up in the woods felt like waking up from a coma" and TWO; the need for a train ride because I go with buss and train every day to school. Also, I longed for some sort of Hogwarts express feeling...  
> Now, this chapter got written rather quickly because I'm sick and have a lot of studying I should be doing. Swedish assignments and physics... Ugh.  
> Either way; thank you for all the positivity I recieved on the first chapter! Hope you enjoy this a little more thrown together chapter.  
> BTW I'm not really sure about some of the sentences here. Feel free to correct me! English isn't my first language, peeps.

The next morning Derek wakes up feeling like his body has been repeatedly crushed by hammers. Why everything hurts is a mystery to him. He groans as he sits up and hears Laura's cheerful voice.

"Baby bro! Finally awake, I hear!"

The light and transient happiness is typical for her. Just as him, she likes to ignore problems and pretend they have gone away, even when they clearly haven't. _'Or maybe,'_ a little voice whispers in his head, _'maybe she's just happy to soon have you gone.'_ For a second, he lets that thought rest in his mind. It's not a pleasant thought and it claws at his brain as it turns around and delves into the darkness he hides in the back of his mind. Then he shrugs it off and listens to Laura's eternal whistling. Of course it's a new tune. Even this song is a tune he knows he heard as a child. It's yet another song from the Smiths, a band his parents used to listen to. Derek remembers his younger self's hatred for the old and bittersweet songs. He sat in the back of the car as his parents listened to the same cassette-tape his sister obviously have found somewhere. Back then he would mutter about how bad the songs were and his parents would laugh at him fondly. Now it's different. The songs brings back old memories he thought he'd forgotten and now he doesn't dislike the songs anymore.

"Derek! Food before take-off!" Laura yells to him.

With a sigh he moves his legs to the floor and can't help but let out a small huff of breath as he stands up and the muscles in his legs starts to scream. Derek begins to move around the room with stiff legs, trying to collect clothing items to put on his weary body. The room is fairly well kept and structured but he doesn't spend much time in there. The dresser containing his clothes is alarmingly empty when he opens the top drawer. Then he notices how alarmingly empty everything is in his room and with a slight rush of panic he realises that Laura has packed his few personal items down into some sort of suitcase. Because he's going away for a longer period of time and he'd nearly forgotten about it. When he finally strolls down the stairs, fully dressed, he's contemplating whether or not to start a fight with Laura. He wants to show her that he's not happy with her decisions even if he have agreed to do as she told him. Derek takes his time with the stairs as his brain starts flipping the problem around, looking for conclusions and right answers. Only there are no right solutions to the problem and therefore his brain just keeps on spinning in vertiginous circles.

When he sits down next to Laura at the wooden table a few seconds later he still doesn't know what to do with himself. One thing is clear, he will eat the food because he is in fact hungry and he have no clue exactly how long he'll be spending in a train compartment without food. As the though re-enters his wrecked brain his world starts spinning again. There is a feeling in his gut that makes him feel sick and he doesn't like what's in front of him.

"Hey," Laura says softly as he takes his place. Derek ignores her and lets the feeling of anxiety and distress wash over him. As a shiver comes down his spine he notices a small wince in Laura. Her whole posture tightens for a moment until she finds her stone face and carefully covers her shock and fear even if Derek can feel the minimal change of air. For some reason he feels a bit better when he see her being taken aback upon feeling and smelling his own distress and unease. A small and cruel smile tugs at his lips before he can stop it. Quickly, he straightens it out and puts his broody expression back on. It's easier than ever to find the frown and to get his lips tight and pressed into a thin line.

They sit in silence for a while, Laura fighting her contradictory feelings and Derek chewing at the sandwich in front of him. He can't taste what's on it and the bites seem to grow in his mouth as he tries to swallow them.

The sensation Derek gets from sitting there in silence next to his sister isn't completely oppressive. It's easy to just shut up and just eat the tasteless food on his plate. It's even easier to ignore the fact that he's going away.

When Derek no longer have any food left to focus on, Laura stands up and grabs the jacket hanging over the wooden chair. Without saying anything, Derek walks towards the entrance and grabs his leather jacket. Their silent understanding is something that has developed quite a bit under the last couple of years. When the whole family was alive, they hadn't been the two closest siblings but after the fire they'd stuck together and now they could read each other like open books. Even if their interactions have been troublesome lately Derek is still a skilled reader. He knows her body language like the back of his hand and exactly how her feels make her look and smell.

Suddenly Laura is standing next to the door with a black bag in her left hand. She gives him a look and he carefully takes the bag from her. Their eyes lock as they move towards the black car and Derek feels some sort of melancholy take over his body.

*****

Derek sits down in an empty seat after having put his luggage in the chair next to him. There are two pair of seats facing each other with a minimal table in the middle and he leaves the two seats opposite of him empty, hoping that no one will sit down there. He feels empty inside when he looks out of the small window as the train starts to move. Laura is standing a few feet away from the train and when she notices that he is looking at her, she starts waving her arms around like a maniac. Even when the train is separating them he can see her tears and smell her sadness. She keeps on waving and as she starts to become smaller and smaller he awakes from his trance and raises a hand. The train accelerates and buildings, cars and people start flashing by as it picks up speed. When the train leaves the city behind Derek's indifference starts to fade away. For some reason the knowledge that he's leaving the village where everyone knows his face and expects him to be a certain way makes him lighter. It's not making him euphoric but he doesn't feel empty anymore.

As he sinks back into the seat under him and searches for the earphones in the black bag next to him he starts to notice the people around him. The train isn't close to being full; it's an ordinary Tuesday in the middle of October and the people around him looks calm. They chat easily and light heartedly with each other. Derek fumbles with his earphones for a while until they come out straight and he can connect them to the phone. Some soft tunes starts playing from them when he clicks 'play' and Derek wonders if this is it. Will he really sit there in his seat for a few hours until somebody calls for him and he goes outside and sees the people whom will feel bad for him for a few months until his sister think she's tortured him enough. Derek sighs and wishes he could stand up for himself. Maybe, if he hadn't been a wolf, this situation hadn't occurred. Because then, he wouldn't have been persuaded by an alpha to do something against his own will, his family wouldn't be dead and he wouldn't have to feel so fucking down all the time. _'A suicidal wolf with martyr- problems'_ was what his uncle Peter used to call him when the uncle had drunk too many glasses of whisky. Derek had hated how sarcastically sweet the phrase had sounded and he'd hated how his uncle would ruffle his hair and huff out a laugh that sounded wrong. When he'd told his mother what Peter had said she'd looked hesitant for a split second. Then her face had softened and she'd hugged him and whispered into his hair that he was a phenomenal wolf and son. Many years later he'd understood that part of her had agreed with the drunk uncle and that was her reason for hesitating for a second. He'd also realised how sad it was to be a fifteen year old boy with martyr problems.

Derek returns to the train as it starts slow down, only fifteen minutes away from his hometown. He knows that no one will call for him by this stop but he cannot help clutching the handle of his bag, ready to jump out of the train at any given moment. As expected, nobody calls for him. The whole situation with the ride is strange. Laura said that the people who would meet him didn't want to "spoil the ride" and that they would send someone out to come and get him when it was time. So Derek had no time and no clue when his ride on the train would end.

Instead of that call he expected to hear when he was close to his destination, four more people enter the car he's sitting in. Most of them just sits down in different seats but one skinny man continues to walk. Derek watches as the young man walks up to _his_ seats and plops down in the chair facing Derek. It looks as if he's a few years younger than Derek himself.

The brown haired boy quirk his brows when Derek forgets to stop look at him.

"Is this seat taken?" he says.

Derek contemplates to just nod but then decides not to because he's raised with wolves. Raised with wolves that happen to be living lie detectors.

"No." He then rapidly avert his gaze, away from the man and to the window. Derek can smell the man in front of him. Oddly enough he smells like pinewood and peanut butter.

"I'm Stiles," the boy says and smiles way too widely when Derek jerks his head back at the sudden shock of hearing a voice.

The train starts to move again and Derek just nods slightly. He doesn't feel like talking, doesn't ever feel the need to babble about nothing with strangers. Instead he solely tries to go back into his shell to indicate to the man that he's not there for the conversation.

"Now is the time when you tell me your name," Stiles smiles a little playfully. Their eyes lock and after a while of awkward internal war with himself Derek gives up.

"Derek," he lets out reluctantly.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it, _Derek_?" Stiles says. His tone is playful and doesn't contain any disrespect or mockery but Derek still feels uncomfortable. Instead of answering he just glowers at Stiles, not sure what is expected from him.

That's what Derek finds scary with conversation. He's not good at talking and never knows what the person he's conversing with is expecting from him. Derek finds it hard to read people and having missed years of social training thanks to his isolation from the society he's always uncomfortable. Jokes tend to fly over his head if it's not sarcasm. What he knows about conversations includes safe work- and weather-topics and those aren't useful in day to day interactions with friends and strangers.

Stiles is still watching him and now its Derek's turn to quirk an eyebrow.

"Sorry," Stiles blurts out, "I'm not good at conversations. I tend to either say too much, trust me, way too much, or just say something really inappropriate. I'm not-"

"Okay." Stiles' face smoothens out and Derek suddenly feels bad for cutting him off. The music playing in his ears has somehow turned to background music and the awkwardness that controlled Derek's body has eased a bit.

"I'm not great either," he says trembling after a short while. He feels stupid and in need of a reminder as to why he is doing this, whatever it is. The nothingness inside of him is turning around and he wants to gasp for air. He doesn't.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" Stiles just says and gives him a sheepish look under the long lashes that caresses the air around him.

Derek doesn't respond. Instead he lets a small smile tug the corner of his mouth to a barely recognisable smile. But the man in front of him seems to catch it and when Derek goes back to watch the trees swish by, Stiles turns around and opens up his backpack. In the corner of his eye, Derek can see how Stiles fumbles around in the brightly red bag for a while. His face enlightens as he seems to find what he's seeking and a second later he brings out a book. The book makes Derek's eyes enlarge because the book is _old_. Actually, the book look ancient and if Derek wouldn't know better he'd say it smelled an awful lot like... magic. Derek continues to stare out the window as Stiles settle and starts to get into the book. His eyes grow bigger and his lips moves as he takes in the words. And Derek, he continues to pretend to look out the window. At this point, he feels as if it would be weird to dig around his big bag to see if Laura packed some of his books. What is even stranger than that is the fact that Laura packed his bag. It makes him feel like the small boy he used to be and reminds him of when he went to his first sleepover at the age of eight. He'd been terrified and excited at the same time when his dad had packed a training bag with clothes and a toothbrush.

Derek stares out the window. He's bored. Two slow minutes later he finally have the courage to shuffle over and start digging through the black bag. It's bigger than it looks and it takes him a good minute to finally feel a solid edge of something that feels like a book. In complete triumph he starts to pull on the book. His triumph quells a bit when he sees the cover.

"The Book thief," a voice says and Derek lifts his eyes only to find Stiles' eyes on the book in his hand.

Derek closes his bag again and leans back in the seat again.

"It's a great book," Stiles says and nods towards the book in Derek's hand. "I really like how Zusak portrayed Liesel. I also enjoy Max, he is probably my favourite character."

Derek watches Stiles as he talks about the book.

"I haven't read it," Derek answers.

"Oh, well, it's a great choice. I know many people who'd choose way worse books to read. I have a friend, Scott, and... Let me just tell you, he has the worst taste in books," Stiles smiles. His slender fingers are fumbling with a page in his own, ancient, book.

"My sister put it in my bag," Derek says. For some reason, he felt obligated to say it. Stiles makes him uncomfortable with his words and Derek feels as if he needs to shield himself from something.

"Then she has an excellent taste," Stiles responds and returns to reading the book in his lap.

Derek opens the book. He hasn't read for years and at first it feels strange to once again take in sentence after sentence and process them. Of course, he gets used to it quickly and soon finds himself enjoying the book he expected to be bad. Sure, the beginning could be better but he gets a feeling telling him that the book will be enjoyable.

After an hour of silent reading, Stiles is still sitting in the seat facing Derek. Derek glances up and can still see how Stiles is forming words in his mouth as he reads. The words seem foreign and he can't help but wonder if the book is written in another language and if so, what kind of language that could be. Just as Derek is about to turn his gaze down to his book again, Stiles look up. His eyes are large and he slam the book shut. Quickly, he gets to his feet and picks up a jacket he has shed at some point. Derek doesn't bother to look up as Stiles pick up his red backpack and carefully put the book down.

"Derek," Stiles says calmly and Derek looks up, a little annoyed with the skinny man.

"This is our stop," Stiles then smirks.


	3. New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was hard to write, but I have to admit to one thing. I really like this chapter. You'll see...

"What?" Derek hisses through tightened teeth.

"This is our stop," Stiles repeats calmly and grins. Derek keeps on sitting in his seat as the train starts to slow down and the rail grates. The look on Stiles face is telling him that what was just said is no joke. For some unknown reason, Derek feels deceived. Why is nobody ever telling him the truth? Why is he always the one to believe everything people tells him?

"Come on, big bad wolf. We have to move now or we'll miss it." People around them are starting to stand up and leave their seats but Derek is still sitting still. His mind is once again taking in the problem and turning it around in continuous circles that makes him sick. Stiles is standing in front of him with raised eyebrows that are demanding him to stand up. So Derek does as he is told. Of course he doesn't like it but he does what he has to do. The wolf is clawing inside his mind, angry with both himself and the boy in front of him. _'You should've known,'_ it growls. _'You never do anything right. The only thing you can do is to do what you're told, you pathetic human. You shouldn't trust people this easily, you should've checked twice. We could run away and beco-'_

Stiles smiles towards Derek and the wolf shuts up. The train makes its' stop and the people in the car sways a little bit when the sudden gravitation pulls on them. Derek rapidly puts his book in his bag and swings it over his shoulder. He is still wearing the same leather jacket, not bothered enough during the ride to have taken it off.

"I'm sorry," Stiles says when they begin to move towards the exit. There are people everywhere, jostling to get out through the small door at the same time. Derek is surprised to find them to be so many since he never noticed them to entrain.

"Sorry for what?" Derek snaps and watches Stiles' head in front of him.

"This was a test," he says and turns around to catch Derek's eye. He then winks and adds; "You passed."

Derek is left confused and alone to his brain spinning around. The wolf is growling somewhere in the back, close to the darkness but he keeps ignoring its' desperate call for attention.

When the exit opens, people starts to flow out and soon Stiles and Derek can start to move. The air is buzzing around them and Derek's sensitive nose has a hard time separating emotions and people from each other. Everything is very overwhelming and a dizziness appears. It flows through his mind and cloaks his senses until they're only dull feelings in the back of his mind.

Avoiding people is something Derek have made into an art and being surrounded by this many at the same time is strange and new to him. Some of the anxiety he though he'd concurred during the train ride is back and screaming for his attention. When he takes the step out of the car the sun hits his eyes and a new smell of strange humans, sweat, vomit and other wolves hits him in the face. Stiles is still walking in front of him and in a robot-like manner, Derek manages to follow him. The scent of wolf grows stronger as they continue to walk through the masses of people rushing by with a destination in mind. The need to run away also continues to grow stronger by each step he takes. The train entrance is still open and he could easily turn around and be gone in a few seconds. He could so easily let the train take him anywhere. But he can't. It's not his consciousness that is stopping him, it's the voice of Laura, his alpha. He physically can't go against her will even if he wants to. Well, he can, but there would be _consequences_.

Very suddenly, Stiles just stops in front of Derek and it's only thanks to his werewolf reflexes Derek doesn't crash into the back of the boy.

It takes some courage to turn his eyes up from the pavement. The scent of foreign wolf is strong and he has to fight the reflexes to growl.

He does as he's taught, like a good boy. Derek lifts his head slowly and turns his head sideways before raising his eyes and let them rest on the wolf opposite of him. The werewolf is about as tall as himself, dark haired and sports a somewhat crooked jaw. Nothing about his posture is threatening and he smells open and welcoming, which makes the spiral thoughts in Derek's mind slow down a bit. When their eyes meet they both straightens and the wolf in front of Derek smiles warmly and offers a hand. Derek takes it and the two of them shake their hands, while still looking into each other's eyes. It's all a matter of mutual respect and settling what kind of wolves they are.

The scent the wolf is sending out confuses Derek. He's not an alpha because that kind of certainty and strength is hard to miss. But still, the beta smells like an alpha, but not quite. It confuses Derek and he doesn't know to approach him.

"I'm Scott," the werewolf says.

"Derek," Derek offers back and then they part.

"Nice," Stiles says next to them, watching them both intensively. "No fights and growls, great, great."

Scott laughs and when doing so, the corners of his eyes creases and Stiles smiles back towards his friend.

Then, Stiles throws his hands together, creating a clapping-sound and looks back at Derek.

"So, Derek, this is our leader, Scott. No, he's not a regular alpha, but we do not care around here so I advise neither do you." His voice is suddenly serious.

The words feel foreign to Derek. A pack of werewolves without an actual alpha sounds so strange and he feels obligated to ask. Not at this very instant though, because that would be horribly inappropriate, he decides and just nods. Still, he's stuck looking at Stiles. The boy is a human and while that is perfectly okay, it's still... not very ordinary.

"The leading role is shared with me, the mage of this little pack of ours," Stiles grins. Everything falls into place and the spiral nearly stops. The people around Derek are no longer bothering him as he understands. That's the reason for Stiles not smelling like wolf and magic. Mages can be difficult to handle and keep many cards up their sleeves.

Scott is watching Derek and he feels uncomfortable. Now is not the time for smelling like distress and anxiety so Derek shoves his feelings into a little jar in the back of his mind that he won't open for a while.

"Should we move?" Scott says and Stiles nods enthusiastically.

The car ride to wherever they are going is uncomfortable. Derek is put in the backseat, behind Stiles and Scott who are sitting in the front of the jeep. Stiles is chattering and Scott is laughing and occasionally stating something. To listen to the both of them is hard and Derek isn't following their conversation. He feels as if it would be rude and he have so many other things to deal with. Every once in a while, Scott glances back at him and he even offers him a small smile one time which Derek doesn't have the time to respond to. Derek wonders what Laura have told them. Do they know that they are supposed to feel bad for him and "fix him"? One time, Stiles turns around fully to look at Derek.

"You really don't like talking, do you?"

Derek doesn't respond, doesn't know how. His mouth is dry and he tries to gather his thoughts but nothing comes out. The tone in Stiles' voice is playful, but Derek feels threatened.

"No," he manages to say and Scott tugs at Stiles shirt to get him to turn around again. The gesture is kind but makes Derek even more uncomfortable. Don't bother the mental kid, the gesture tells him.

"So Derek, Laura was telling me about how you needed some fresh air," Scott says after a while. He's looking at him through the rear-view mirror and Derek meets his eyes. He can feel how tense his face is.

"I guess," he says.

The conversation dies with that but Scott doesn't seem to care.

"Well, that's what you'll get. This pack isn't very big but we provide great company and entertainment. I've known Stiles since kindergarten and we met the others in high school." The both men in the front doesn't look very old to Derek and he wonders how old they are. They bicker like an old couple and Scott's welcoming and warm expression doesn't really send out responsible and mature signals. A careful wolf wouldn't just open their arms up to a stranger.

"How do you know my sister?" He finds himself asking. In the front, Stiles and Scott share a look and Stiles start talking.

"A few months ago she needed a mage's help. A little magic in her life, that is. So, I did some abracadabra. No avada kedarva, though. All light hearted silly tricks fresh out the top hat." Scott gives Stiles a look and before the werewolf gets to say anything Stiles interrupts him. "It's a Harry Potter reference, _Scott_. Shut up."

The boy grins and moves along.

"Well, she came here and of course fell for my charming ways and now we're all _friends_. End of story!" The puzzle in Derek's head is still incomplete but some part are clearer to him. Stiles heart had kept steady when telling the story and it stings a bit when Derek understands that Laura hadn't told him about going into another pack's territory and asking for their help. Of course he doesn't ask about what "little magic" she'd needed but that doesn't stop him from wondering. The aggravated wolf is back, clawing and howling to get his attention. By now, Derek is annoyed with it but he keeps on ignoring it and lets the simple data about Laura sink into his mind. He is aware of the fact that Stiles is a mage and probably could hide a change in the pace of his heart but Derek knows better. He knows that Laura have been keeping something from him these last couple of months and he doesn't like it. It stirs up even more emotions that he keeps putting in his jar full of bubbling feelings, ready to eat him up alive if he ever opens it.

"So Laura never really told me much about you," Scott says. It's an opening for Derek to talk about himself, something others usually like but he doesn't. He finds it hard to find something to say.

"I come from the Hale-pack and I work as a freelance artist," is everything he can come up with on the spot. The short sentence seem to work though, and the two odd leaders of the local pack wherever Derek is, looks a little surprised.

"Really? That is so cool," Stiles hisses. "You should draw Scott! I've always told him I _need_ someone to really capture just how crooked his jaw is."

"It's not that-" Scott starts but of course Stiles interrupts him.

"Oh yes, it is!"

Scott laughs and Stiles looks at Derek.

"You up for the challenge, dude?"

"I don't really do.... classical portraits. I do a type of lineart," he answers.

Stiles hums and nods his head.

"Erica will love you," he says.

*****

Erica doesn't love him. Nobody in the strange pack really loves him. All nine of them seem to tolerate and accept his presence but that's it. When him, Stiles and Scott had arrived at what they called "The Pack house" it had only been them there, which Derek had been thankful for. They had showed him a tiny room in a long hallway and told him to make himself at home. Derek had put his bag down and laid down on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying his best to control the flood of emotions threatening to overtake him. He'd heard voices further away from him but he'd ignored them and instead dug around the bag for art supplies. When he'd found them he'd drawn line after line, stressed and determined to create something. Nothing good had come out of it and by the time he could hear the door open and a new voice he wanted to throw the sketchbook out of the window on the wall. He didn't.

When the voices had grown louder, Derek had decided that he needed to go out there and show himself. He didn't want to but he did it either way. If he hadn't, Laura would be mad at him. All her childhood problems involved having too many friends, all Derek's involved having friends he didn't want.

Either way, he'd walked slowly towards the voices. He'd found the two leaders of the pack and a blonde girl standing in the living room and chatting. As he'd entered, they had turned their eyes towards him and he'd wanted to run. He hadn't done it.

Erica had been introduced to him and she listened to his answers as she asked him questions about himself, his art and his life in general. His answers weren't interesting and only contained enough words to be understandable but he actually found it to be an activity one could do without feel very pressured into it. But she doesn't love him. Nobody in the strange pack do. Both Isaac and Boyd had smiled towards him a few times and had given him a look that told him 'it will all be okay' to which the wolf inside of Derek had screamed and wanted to claw Isaac across the face, telling him _'YOU DON'T KNOW SHIT'_. Derek hadn't clawed neither Isaac nor Boyd across the face. Jackson had basically ignored him, Danny had looked at him a few seconds too long, Lydia had asked him if she could see his abs sometimes to which Stiles had scolded her. Allison had smiled sweetly towards him and told him if he ever wanted to train anything, he should go to her, the human. He wasn't sure about it, but he felt as if that was something he could do.

As the night had sneaked up on them, they had sat down in the group of sofas in the living room. The pack is all chattering and in a corner, a fire was is burning. Derek feels a little left out, a little bit in. It's a strange thing to sit with a pack he doesn't know and he wonders what they think about him just sitting there, pressed between an armrest and Erica. The closeness the group shares is something Derek can remember taking place in the grand Hale-pack at one point. He thinks of it with a certain melancholy that slowly crushes his heart.

At this point, Derek is tired after a long day of stress and anxiety. His head is pounding and for once he really wishes to sleep. Lydia, one of the human mages, yawns and stretches her arms in the air as if she could read his thoughts.

"We should really go to sleep," she says and the whole pack just agrees and starts to stand up one at the time. In under one minute the room is clear and Derek is left standing there feeling a little bit left out. Stiles is standing by the fire, stirring in the weary fire that is about to die any second.

"We'll go for a run at six o'clock tomorrow," he says, not looking up from the fire.

"You should go with us."

Derek nods.  
"Okay," he says and stands awkwardly in the room. The room is so silent and Derek can't decide if he likes it better than when the room had been overwhelmingly loud.

It's silent for a little while and Derek starts to move towards the stairs. He's just about to take the first step when he is interrupted by Stiles' voice.

"I know what happened to your family."

Derek freezes and turns around Stiles, who now has turned around and is standing with his back towards the wall next to the small fireplace.

"I'm sorry," he offers quietly. The wolf is tearing down the wall, probably because Derek have no energy left to hold it back and is tired of being quiet.

"You say that. People always say that and they never really mean it. I'm fed up with those words." He doesn't scream, but he knows that his voice isn't as calm and controlled as he would have wished.

"I know," Stiles says tiresome. "My mother died when I was eight, I know how some of it feels. And I can only imagine loosing all my pack. I get it." He looks as if he wants to say something more and for the first time during the short time Derek have seen the mage, he really looks old.

"Just try, at least. Don't shut yourself out."

"I'm not."

"Yeah, then why did your sister send you here?" Stiles' eyes are big and creeping up on Derek, whose eyes dodge Stiles'.

Why is the mage asking all the questions in Derek's mind? His fist clenches and he fights the urge to tear Stiles' throat out. Even if he tried, he probably couldn't.

There are no words to express what Derek wants to say, so he just turns around and walks up the stairs.

Stiles doesn't say anything, he still smells a bit like anger, sadness and regret. Derek falls asleep to the sound of his own breath mixed with a wolf howling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, lineart is cool. I do some form of lineart and I love it. As I said earlier, this Derek is so ME, haha.  
> WHAT DID YOU THINK?!


	4. Don't Panic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to apologize for my writing, I'm NOT. I just really loved my first chapter and now nothing will live up to that. Well. I like this as well, just not as much. Gaah, I hope you enjoy it either way :)

Five o'clock sharp somebody starts shaking Derek's body. The sudden moves and contact that Derek isn't used to makes him jump up and snarl loudly, ready to attack. His jerky moves make the person, whomever it may be, laugh lightly and Derek relaxes slightly. As his heartbeat return to its' usual pace, he can catch a sight of the person that abruptly shook him awake. The blonde hair really gives it away and when the person laughs even louder Derek can't help the small smile that tugs in the corner of his mouth. He feels a little out of place and he is unsure of what to do but his body just seem to react in its' own way.

Erica straightens up and gives him a funny look.

"Derek," she says and pauses for a split of a second to catch her breath, "we're going out for a run before breakfast and Stiles told me you wanted to join."

A smile is playing across her mouth and by now Derek is relaxed. He likes the blonde girl for some reason. It might be the waves she's sending off. She just doesn't really feel like the others, who keep sending out strange and warm emotions. Erica feels more solid and doesn't seem to want to talk about his past for an eternity.

"Who are "we"?" he says.

"Oh, you know, everyone. Except for Stiles."

Derek lets out a small breath he didn't know he was holding on to.

"Okay, I'll come. When?"

Before answering his question she gives him a confused look that is asking questions.

"Now."

Then she turns around and starts walking out of the small room. "So get ready, wolf!"

He takes a moment to just sit in the bed, rub his eyes and contemplate life. Running in the morning is a nice activity that he used to do and when he's getting ready his blood starts pumping in higher intensity. It takes him about two minutes to find the clothes and to actually get them on. He then picks up his earphones and phone. Before opening the door he takes a deep breath, trying to get himself to calm down. The whole situation is so strange.

"Derek!"

The whole pack, minus Stiles, is standing in the threshold waiting for him when he gets down the stairs. They all smile towards him and Derek wonders how they're all so energized at 05:10 in the morning. Not that Derek himself is very low on energy but their levels of happiness and "let's run 15 miles"- mood is not normal at this hour.

A small and trying smile spreads quickly across Derek's face as they leave the house behind. When they get to a path that leads them into the woods they start jogging. The tempo is fairly high but then again, the majority of them are werewolves and their stamina is usually pretty good. The fresh morning air, the shadow and silence the forest offers gives Derek a calm and new sort of energy. He is used to running and he never feels as free as he does when running. His heart starts beating and the blood keeps flowing through his veins, providing energy and a warm feeling of being put to work. The restlessness is gone and the anger he felt last night is gone.

*****

Breakfast isn't as horrible as he imagined. After having run one mile everyone is energized and full of endorphins. There is also something that brings people together by running together, getting dirty together and pushing each other by simply just being there. While running Derek found that he could feel as one of them. The pack let him in and while they all ran in a comfortable silence, sometimes broken by Erica who lashed out to some song that was playing in her ears or the occasionally small talk, the wolf in Derek settled a bit. For a wolf that is used to be alone, to have a steady pack around makes said wolf calm and seeking company. It's a hard work being a lone wolf, in other words, and being pushed into a pack really helps. The others seem to feel the same thing and keeps on dragging him in. The whole thing made his heart clench and not solely because he was running at that time. No, the way his wolf keeps settling after only a few hours in the same house and company as these strangers makes him realise how much he have missed the closeness and the way they all care for each other and interact. Why they keep on welcoming him with open arms is still a mystery to him but that doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate it. He isn't sure what Laura told them, but he's still a little curious and angry with the situation.

Either way, breakfast isn't horrible. The small talk that went on during the run is intensified and somewhere, he can hear Boyd laugh. He has a deep laugh that makes people want to join in.

Derek just sits by the table, quiet and content. The wolf has settled inside of him and when running he was able to actually bury some of the stormy emotions he felt last night for good. There is no better way to kill feelings then to sweat them out and then run away from them.

He takes a bite from his sandwich when Isaac plops down next to him.

"Hey," he says and sets down a bowl of cereal. Derek just answers with a nod that he hopes looks somewhat natural.

"I'll be at the house today," Isaac continues and takes a spoon full of cereal and shoves into his mouth.

"I'll study from home," he then clarifies with a mouth stuffed with food. Derek is surprised he can even get a sound out of there.

"To babysit me?" Derek then says without thinking. Sometimes, when he doesn't think too much, his brain is too connected to his mouth and very rarely, whenever he's not biting his tongue he tend to just say things. But Isaac just smirks and laughs a little, without spitting out food everywhere.

"Kind of. Don't tell Stiles I said that though, he told me to not say that," he laughs and covers his mouth with a hand as his eyes continues to laugh.

Derek doesn't mind sitting and talking to Isaac. What he does mind is that Stiles have put a babysitter to watch him. Sure, he gets it, letting in a stranger into a pack isn't something a good leader just does without having someone watching over them. But still, if Scott would've been the one to tell Isaac to supervise Derek he wouldn't have minded. He's just tired of Stiles after one day and he doesn't really know how or why it happened. Maybe the man reminds him too much of himself or he just voices Derek's darkest thoughts. To be sure of such a thing is hard and also the last thing Derek is capable of the time being.

Instead he covers up everything with the Hale-pokerface; a face he can easily tell Isaac haven't been exposed to before since he doesn't notice. Only experts can identify that look and even fewer people know how to actually tackle said expression.

Isaac doesn't wait for a reply, which Derek appreciates. The following silence, a silence a more socially experienced person would fill with nonsense words, is more comfortable than any other silence Derek have felt in a few weeks. With Laura silences can be comfortable on the surface but if only a drop happens to fall onto the smooth face everything starts to storm up and the underlying tension comes back up and gasps for air.

"You're good at running," Isaac offers when he's finished with his bowl and cereal and Derek have made yet another sandwich. The statement makes Derek look up and wonder if he should thank Isaac.

"Thank you," he says, "I've ran a lot during the last months."

Isaac nods and then makes a gesture with his hand, pointing towards the kitchen.

"I'll go now. Sadly enough I really need to start with some of my assignments. But before I do that I really need to head out to the library to get a book or two. I'll be gone for an hour or two." With that, Isaac stands up and picks up the bowl.

"What are you studying?" Derek asks before it's too late. Isaac looks up with a small smile.

"Economics at a college a few miles away," he says and then takes his leave. Derek keeps on sitting at the table with a sandwich that he doesn't remember the toppings of and a mind full of thoughts. The house is beginning to get quieter and quieter all around him and at half past seven he is still sitting in the same chair at the same spot while everyone is rushing out. It's a bit early to be rushing but they doesn't seem to mind. His running clothes is still on and he decides to shower and change. It feels strange to be nearly left alone in the big and strange house. The house reminds him of his own home; big and gorgeous. It makes him think of how the Hale house used to look and how it used to feel to be inside it and take part of one of the biggest packs in their area. Thoughts of the old Hale pack fills his mind and a storm of feelings he thought he'd buried comes rushing through his mind. Derek's mood swings always surprises himself and he hurries to the bathroom close to the small room where he slept. He quickly gathers clean clothes and an even smaller bag of toiletries that he is surprised Laura remembered packing for him. As he storms into the bathroom he is faced with a heavy wall of fog hanging in the air. The sudden change makes him stop and he quickly turns around and says a shaky 'sorry' as he closes the door behinds him and runs to the next bathroom to try and forget whatever that was. Years of never having to knock or even consider the possibility of there being someone else in the bathroom in front of him have clearly made him ignorant of the smells and noises. A shame comes over him and the sadness he already carries from solely being in the house is intensified when he thinks back to his younger days. Back then he never used to lock the door either because everyone knew whenever someone was in the bathroom.

The wolf starts to spin around in shaky circles, chasing its' tail in disquiet. Derek opens the door to the second bathroom and locks the door behind him as he throws the clean clothes on the floor. The second they crash land on the floor Derek presses his back towards the door and slides down when he leans towards the floor. His breath hitches and the wolf runs faster. It's talking again but he can't catch a single word because all he can hear is his own breath and the irregular beating of his heart. Will he die like this?

"Derek," a voice from the other side of the door says. Someone is tugging at the handle of the door, trying to get it open but Derek can barely register it.

"Derek, open the door," the voice says and the sudden scent of fright reaches Derek's nose. But he can't open the door and even if he could he wouldn't because at the same time it feels as if he will die any second he can feel shame creeping up his spine.

The door behind him opens with a click after a few of mumbles of foreign words are uttered and then arms are around him. Derek's lungs keeps on gasping for air as if he was drowning and a rush of panic chills him down.

"Derek, Derek, Derek," the voice from behind says and turns him around. With glazed eyes he can see that the voice belongs to Stiles who now takes a hand and lightly strokes his hair tryingly.

To hold someone's gaze who tries to comfort him is something Derek's can't do and as his breath starts to slow down and the wolf keeps on spinning he turns his eyes away so that he's staring at the floor.

"It's okay," Stiles whispers and continues to hold him in the awkward position. He feels pathetic. Derek, the ever failing person at being normal, feels his eyes burn and he is drowning in thoughts. To literally drown wouldn't feel so bad at that moment because the shame and the fright is close to making him shake. Instead Derek keeps on pushing everything down and he is punching at the emotions seeking a way to take over his body. It takes a while trying to anchor himself to the real world and even then he feels the warm hands resting on his shoulders and a quiet whisper telling him how everything would be alright. _'It won't be alright, you fuck, stop lying,'_ he wants to scream. But he doesn't.

Even when Derek's breath is back to normal and he have a lump in his throat he keeps his mouth shut. He is drowning in shame and by now he can hear the wolf's mantra. _'It's your fault,'_ it keeps repeating when chasing the tail in endless circles.

"You know, I used to get these all the times a few years ago," Stiles says, lets out a huff of a laugh and lets go of his grip of Derek who rapidly straightens up in a tense position. "When my mum died I had my dad and neither of us talked about it so I just kind of pretended that everything was okay while there was a storm inside my mind. I have so many thoughts and I can never concentrate on anything so whenever I got close to the edge the attacks kept coming until one night my dad found me on the floor, crying my eyes out as I thought I was about to die. He then proceeded to take me to the hospital and then they made me take some happy pills and I don't know why I'm telling you this."

Stiles takes a long breath and a hand is reaching for his hair and drags out a lock of the wet brown hair and tugs at it. A few drops of water reaches the floor and Derek's brain registers that it was in fact Stiles he walked in on. He didn't see anything but it's still embarrassing.

"I'm okay," Derek says and swallows hard as the wolf shouts out its' mantra. Stiles expression go both softer and harder when he hears the words. A white t-shirt is clinging to his chest due to bad drying. Derek can see droplets of water on the t-shirt and he have to swallow.

"I can see that," Stiles says dryly and takes the hand out of his hair and instead wipes his face with it. A tiredness and maturity flashes over his face for a split second.

"You have to admit to it if you ever want to get better," he says and stands up.

"I'm okay," Derek repeats but he can't look Stiles in the eyes. They both know it's a lie but Derek still can't say anything else. He wants to spill everything but he can't. The secrets have been secrets for so long that they seem impossible to ever tell anyone, even less a person he met less than twenty four hours ago. Stiles turns around and is about to leave the bathroom when he stops and looks Derek in the eyes.

"I understand you, you know. And I do know why you're here so you don't have to be an ass about it." He then proceeds to leave Derek, sitting on the floor with the same lump in his throat as before. It feels as if he have gotten kicked in the stomach and he wants to throw up. He doesn't throw up.

*****

Derek spends the rest of the forenoon furiously drawing line after line in his sketchbook. He is sitting in the couch close to the fire and lets his hands, imagination and feelings do their thing. It really does help to just create things, he have found. To get rid of anger and anxiety is the actual reason for his career as an artist to begin with. It all started when he was a kid with "anger problems" and his teacher went on to do some sort of investigation on his "condition". The humans of course didn't find anything and left him to be. But his teacher found a new way to keep him busy when she one day handed him a paper and told him to draw how he felt. The early sketches and drawings are of course no master pieces but they were a beginning of a childhood filled with crayons, sharpies and pencils. Nowadays his go-to pen is a black sharpie with a fine tip and a little bigger one to outline with. The drawing and sketching still helps him to deal with emotions he'd rather never think about and for some reason people have found his art interesting to the point where they actually buy the pieces he put online. Derek doesn't get rich from drawing but he can do what he loves and he survives by doing it so he continues to do it.

By lunch time Isaac comes down from his room, heats up some leftover and sits down next to Derek.

"I'm so fucking tired of economics," Isaac says and turns on the TV. The next thing Derek knows they are both sucked into the old Spiderman two.

Afterwards they both share their thoughts and actually laugh when they both agree on how ridiculous doctor octopus look. Isaac then sighs heavily and announces that he once again needs to delve deep into the "wonderful world of numbers and endless stupid taxes". Derek keeps on sitting in the sofa, scribbling and sketching on the blank pages while listening to some music. All his energy is channelled into the drawings on the paper and for the time being, that feels more than alright.

At noon people starts to return to the house. First home is Scott who's carrying two bags of groceries in each hand. With a heavy sigh he awakens Derek from his trance-like state who then sits for a good minute wondering is it's rude not to help the pack leader. He then guesses that it is and gets up to his feet and walks over to the kitchen. Scott is already starting to put groceries onto shelves and into the fridge. When he sees that Derek is coming to help him Scott looks up and smiles.

"Hey," he says. "It's my turn to cook dinner. So you shouldn't expect much, I'm not a great cook."

Derek nods a little and bows down to help Scott put the food wherever it should be. It takes him a while to figure out where everything goes but his werewolf smelling helps. The whole time a thought is nagging at his mind, reminding him of what Stiles said the same morning. _'I do know why you're here,'_ he'd said and now Derek is wondering if Scott knows as well. Because _if_ Scott knows, Derek would not only like to know, but he'd also probably rot from the inside out. Whatever Laura had told them it sure as hell isn't pretty and Derek doesn't want them to think ill of him.

Scott doesn't act as if he knows though. He starts to whistle happily and tells Derek about what food he's going to make and how it's going to be made. When the four bags are empty, Derek is a lot calmer because Scott hasn't said anything about him and the moment with Stiles the same morning. He hopes that Stiles have kept everything to himself and that he isn't planning on telling the whole pack.

The evening arrives soon enough and then they are all gathered around the big table once again.

"The round table," Stiles says with a smile that makes Erica laugh. The pack all makes tame compliments to Scott who doesn't seem to mind how wrong they sound and just smiles happily in a dopey puppy-ish way. Derek is quiet throughout most part of the dinner until Danny says his name.

"Derek," he says, "I saw your website today. You're a really talented artist." Derek freezes and stares at Danny before he managed to get a 'thank you' out.

"I really like the way you portray being a werewolf, an outcast and the way you make every line hold meaning."

A nod to acknowledge the compliments is the only thing a stunned Derek can sum up.

"I try," he says and he hears how stiff his voice sounds. Derek wishes he never had to talk about his art. At the same time he likes getting confirmation that he is in fact doing something worth looking at, the pain and his feelings is brutally honest and easy to detect in his drawings.

While the others move on with the conversation, somebody telling Derek that he have to show them the website, Stiles keeps on looking at Derek. Stiles' two brown eyes stay on Derek for a rather long while, scanning and looking for something that he doesn't seem to find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment telling me what you like, what you hate, wonder or just whatever you think of this. It would help me out! :)


	5. Run away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've been very busy but yesterday and today I finally managed to write! Boy is this chapter rather messy but just wait...!

Thursday and Friday follows a similar pattern to Wednesday. On Thursday Isaac goes back to school again and instead leaves Allison to watch over him. It is nice to have Allison around even if she mostly just sits by the computer upstairs and presses down keys most of the time. During the afternoon she breaks the connection to the computer and asks if Derek wants to train with her, which he agreed to do. The training, as she calls it, is one of the hardest sessions Derek have ever had. That he is a werewolf and she a human doesn't matter when she have a crossbow and is very skilled with it.

Friday pass in the exact same scheme and Derek finds himself feeling more and more relaxed in the pack's presence. Yes, he still gets tense around Stiles but that is merely because Derek gets bad vibes from the guy. The whole 'I-get-you look' that is ghosting around Stiles' face whenever Derek sees him makes his fingers tingle and the need to run away starts pulling harder on him. Derek's body freezes whenever Stiles is present and he wonders if the others notice. If they do, nobody is commenting upon it and for that, Derek is thankful.

But as Saturday comes around and they all wake up at, not five o'clock but eight o'clock, and go for a run, Stiles join them.

"It's because I don't want you werewolves to feel bad for your horrible stamina," he tells Derek who just shrugs and starts running. Why he keeps on ignoring Stiles is still a mystery to him. _'You can't run away from your problems, Derek,'_ his father used to say. _'Let the boy try,'_ his uncle Peter always had answered and laughed.

During the run Derek finds out two things. One, the sun rises at exactly eight thirty three, according to Danny, and two, Stiles really have great stamina. Derek is quiet throughout the one and a half mile run but no one seem to care. They sure do notice though because of course Stiles crack a comment about it after half the run. Stiles' odd comments and scarily open arms makes, as previous mentioned, Derek very uncomfortable. Stiles' insinuation of their three day old awkward relationship being in a friendly area is too much for Derek to handle. Snarky comments and sarcasm is something Derek knows about but whenever they come out of Stiles' mouth he never knows how to read it. The mage is a grey unpainted spot in a otherwise colourful world.

Either way, the pack is happy because it's weekend and they're supposed to hold some sort of pack meeting during breakfast. Derek doesn't understand their need to hold a pack meeting since they see each other every day and is around each other most of the time. He doesn't say anything or ask why they feel the need to hold a rendezvous even if he thinks about it.

Lydia's jaw is set during the run and is the only one who doesn't look happy. Something seems to be bugging her and Derek easily recognises the look upon her face. It's the exact same look that Laura gets when she is thinking about "pack-problems", as she stubbornly calls them. When Derek thinks about Laura, he feels a pit being formed in his stomach. His sister called him last night. The will to answer the ringing phone was nowhere to be found so Derek had ignored it. Now, when reminding himself about it again, he can feel the pit sucking at his former okay mood. Why must she always destroy everything, even when not present? How does Laura even do it?

Derek copes with it by pressing himself harder. They're not far from the house and Derek knows that he can run however fast he likes because he knows the route back to the house. So he does just that. Nobody comments upon it and just lets him leap away, which he enjoys. When the blood starts to pump at a higher speed and his lungs nearly hurts from trying to collect enough oxygen the thoughts of Laura gets out of his brain. Sweat is breaking out from his forehead and the smell of rain and autumn cleanses his nose from the smell of misery he himself is reeking of. Ten minutes later of running at the same insane speed, Derek collapses on the porch. His lungs have had enough of his running and his chest is heaving up and down, up and down in a mesmerising manner. There is still rain hanging in the air and Derek can feel small droplets of water covering his whole being. Mostly his body but also his brain, heart and eyes. It makes them dull and his senses are slightly off.

Half a minute of him breathing heavily later, he can hear someone else breathing heavily and feet hitting the ground at a high speed. He looks up from watching the dirt on his shoes and instead looks over towards the forest. Only ten seconds later Stiles comes breaking out through the woods. He looks sweaty and is, of course, sporting a smile that makes the former sleeping wolf inside of Derek's head growl in annoyance. Then Stiles proceeds to run on over to the porch and half sit- half lay down next to Derek. It's hard not to notice how his hard his body is working to fix whatever lack of oxygen it's currently suffering from.

"That was... intense," Stiles says between large intakes of air. The air around them tastes good on Derek's tongue as he sips in the air. His own lungs have calmed down quite a bit and is almost back to normal.

"Yeah," Derek agrees tamely and wishes for the others to break through the tree line at any second. They don't and they won't because Derek can't sense their smells in a radius of a quarter of a mile. He wants to leave the porch, go inside, get a bottle of water and possibly hide himself under a blanket in the sofa. When he doesn't start to move on and go into the house he instead continues to sit there at the porch, in the middle of autumn next to a person who makes him feel incredibly out of it. _'Out of what?'_ one might ask. Out of everything.

Stiles is smiling next to him, Derek can feel it without looking at the mage. His breathing is still heavy. Derek looks over to the other man, and there is of course a hearty smile plastered to his face. How he can be so happy over nothing, Derek doesn't know. Stiles had said that he'd lost his mother at a young age and Derek doesn't know how he can continue to live with that. Yes, Derek is living with loss in his heart but he isn't _living_. To be honest, he isn't really sure why he keeps on pushing himself out of the same nightmares every night. It's not like he ever gets a grand reward from life for his constant pushes.

Two minutes later, Stiles breath is even and the cold morning air is starting to nip on their feet and hands while waiting for the remains of the pack.

"We should move inside," Stiles says as he gets up to his feet. Derek notices the goose bumps that are covering Stiles' skin and nods. When they are inside the house, Derek doesn't know what to do with himself so he just walks to the kitchen after having taken off his shoes. There he grabs a glass and fills it with water. The cold liquid soothes his thirst for water and makes him feel more human. Stiles is right behind him and also fills a glass and chugs two glasses right after each other.

Before neither of them gets a chance to utter any embarrassing and awkward sentences the pack burst through the front door, panting, laughing and Jackson growling.

*****

"Feral wolves," Lydia starts when everyone is settled by the table. Derek had been granted to be a part of the pack meeting which he feels odd about. A stranger at a pack meeting just clashes in his mind.

"They have been everywhere lately. Just this night, me and Stiles rushed up at midnight and took down one who had killed a deer close to the house inside of our barrier." She isn't playing around and the others around the table eye their leaders nervously. Only Boyd is looking at something else, and he is watching Derek as if it's his fault.

"What? Why didn't you say anything?!" Jackson calls out and looks angry with scrunched together eyebrows and a hard line etched in his forehead.

"Stop it, Jackson, I can take care of myself," Lydia snaps and Jackson shuts his mouth but lets the line be.

Derek doesn't feel a lot about the potential threat in a feral werewolf. He has met his fair share of the untamed beasts and doesn't find them scary. Back home there have been a lot of feral wolves lately due to the lack of a strong and big pack to claim the land. Well, the land is in fact claimed by the Hale pack but that pack is small and weak for now.

Erica isn't moved by Lydia's words.

"So? We'll just scare them away," she says and raises her eyebrows.

"Something doesn't feel right," Stiles says and gets everyone to turn their heads towards him.

"The balance that used to rest over this place is in disordered and everything magical feels either too bright or too dull. If I didn't know better, I'd say something is sick here and attracting the attention of the feral wolves."

Lydia and Stiles share a look and Derek wonder why they aren't the two leaders of the pack.

"Okay, but how do we solve this?" Danny says.

"I don't know," Stiles says after a moment of silence.

"We'll search for an answer," Scott says and Derek feels obligated to say something about the Hale pack's trouble with feral wolves.

"Me and my sister have also been having troubles with feral wolves lately," he says and gets nine pairs of eyes to pierce him right through. It nearly throws him out of balance but he tackles it by continuing.

"Outrageous numbers of them. We thought it might have something to do with out pack being weak and the land not being claimed properly."

Stiles and Scott shares a look. The table is silent for a second, the betas waiting for their two leaders to say something.

"So you _can_ talk," Stiles smiles widely towards Derek and people starts to stand up and leave as if that was some sort of cue. Derek just rolls his eyes and feels a sting of regret for having opened his mouth. Rather than answering with a growl, Derek merely gives Stiles a look, gets up and leaves the room. He hurries to the room he's starting to call his own and grabs his thinning sketchbook and the only two pencils he needs that are about to run out of ink. To ask for someone to show him the nearest bookstore is an easy task but he knows that he'll put it up to the very last second. Naturally, he'll just continue to try and squeeze out the very last drop of ink from the pens that he'll then won't throw away because for some reason they hold some sort of sentiment to him.

The window in the room is open and the cold air is sneaking in. He can hear how the other werewolves are walking around in the house and in the spur of the moment Derek jumps out of the window with his sketchbook and pens under his right arm.

The house isn't really situated in a forest as the Hale house. The two houses are other than that rather similar. This house is not situated in a forest but next to one. A road with a few houses by its sides lead up to the white house. To jump out of a window at the second floor doesn't really bother Derek and he quietly makes his way into the forest. After just a few feet he regrets his decision that involves not putting on a jacket. The autumn air is not hugging him and there are still rain hanging in the air that wants nothing more than to make his life miserable.

To find peace is hard. The wolf in his head doesn't settle for anything other than true serenity. It hears every creak in the trees, every mouse that sniffs in the air and every rustling leave on the forest bed. That's the reason it takes Derek forty five minutes to sit down with his back to a big tree. For some odd reason he can no longer hear his surroundings but he thanks the wolf for finally settling down and not spinning in circles as it usually does.

On the sketchbook he then sets down on his knees a tree starts to grow. At first it looks like any other tree but as times goes on, he finds the tree to have no leaves and from one of its' broken branches a rope is swinging back and forth. A single flower is creeping out from a hole in the stock and in one of the highest and most frail branches a little person is sitting, dangling his or hers little legs back and forth after having given up to find a way down.

As the sketch starts to finish up the drawing, Derek returns to reality. He's cold and even if he's a wolf his body is shaking. It's something he haven't experienced in a long time and more intrigued than afraid, he starts to stare at his hand that was steady enough to hold onto a pen less than two minutes ago.

"Strange, isn't it?" he hears a voice say from behind him. Derek jumps to his feet and turns around in one quick movement. Next to the tree Lydia is standing and watching him with the ghost of a smile on her lips.

"How did you sneak up on me?" he says and knows that he sounds angry. It's because of how startled he is, but Lydia doesn't know that.

She doesn't seem to notice or care about that his tone isn't nice and just smirks.

"You'll never know."

When he doesn't make another move she turns around.

"Are you coming or are you going to stay here and repress whatever problems you got?"

"I wasn-"

"You were," she cuts him of, "Now are you coming or what?"

Reluctantly, he starts to walk behind the redhead. She holds her head high, as if she owns the world around her. She holds her head high, as if she knows every secret in the world and she won't ever tell anyone. Yes, Lydia looks so confident and seem to be in control of every aspect of both her life and everyone around her. Derek can feel a sting of envy when he walks behind her and sees the way she walks through the cold world, sure of herself and her happiness. Independent, strong and all-knowing. He wants to ask her how she does it, what her secret is. But he doesn't. He's come to term that he never does anything, he just hides everything behind a stone face and shoves everything into the jar of emotions in his head. That's probably the reason for the impatient and annoying wolf that inhabits his brain and feeds of the darkness his minds creates.

They walk side by side in a silence that Lydia soon breaks. With a hammer of a question she breaks the ice.

"So, another depressed artist?" She says without looking at him, as if she's trying to make a point by not looking at him. As if she wouldn't offend him if she's not looking at him while talking.

"No," Derek answers shortly, hoping to end the conversation there.

"I've seen your drawings," she says and now she turns her big and way too round eyes to meet his. The pair pins his own eyes down.

"And I know a depressed person when I see one," she then continues with her eyes still focused on his.

"Trust me, _Derek_ , you're not in a good place. You might be hard to read but I'm a good reader." She pronounces his name as if it's made of fragile porcelain that she is about to throw at a wall and he wants to flinch and jump at that. But he doesn't.

They arrive at the house twenty minutes later. It had taken Derek forty five minutes to get out there but back then he had walked around in meandering path that was no way close to being straight. The house smells of food and when Lydia opens the door Derek just knows that the pack is eating. He's shocked to find the big clock at the wall saying the time is seven pm. He knows that he's been gone for a while but that many hours seem a little bit out of hand. Maybe that's why Lydia came looking for him.

Scott raise a hand and greet them. The rest of the pack does the same, nobody commenting on neither the late arrival of Derek's nor his sudden disappearance. That's why he's thankful for everything when he sit down at the end of the table, next to an Erica that smirks towards him and a curly Isaac that just grins when he sees Derek's sketchbook.

One hour later, Derek goes to the bathroom to shower. At half past eight he goes to bed and for the first time in a long time he fall into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the story starts to deepen! What do you think so far? :)


	6. Hanging Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been a while. But, I'm back again with a little shorter chapter that I wrote just today. I just sat down and wrote this mess.

Days go by and before Derek knows it, he's been with the pack for two weeks. One might think that two weeks is a short period of time, but after two weeks Derek feels as if he's known the most of them for far longer than merely two weeks. His feelings are both a result from being a company-seeking wolf and of course living with them and spending his every waking hour in their company. After two weeks, he can easily read nearly all of them and the other way around. Not only that, but even if he would never admit it to anyone, he knows that he is feeling better.

During the last week they've dealt with many feral wolves together and Derek have found that he is actually very compatible with all of them. Maybe not Stiles, but that's only because the mage is rubbing Derek's fur the wrong way.

Once again, it's Tuesday morning but at six o'clock they're not out running as usual. Instead, himself and Allison are sneaking around the woods, hunting down the same feral omega they've been looking for over an hour. The whole thing is bugging him because feral omegas are never clever enough to actually make either an actual threat or even a hard fight. That's why this particular werewolf is irritating him - it doesn't act like the fifteen wolves they've already killed during the last week. The fact that it's way too early for hunting down some crazed person is also something that is bugging him. Derek ducks under a low branch of a tree and keeps his body tense, ready to attack in any direction if needed. The smell of the omega in weak but still there.

"Der," a whisper interrupts him. Quickly, his head dart in the direction Allison is pointing in and his whole body tenses even more. Something is turning around in his gut and the lack of smell from the corpse in front of him is making him even sicker. He'd think that being exposed to this shit too much would make his stomach get less upset whenever seeing a corpse being ripped apart in threads and then hung up into a tree but it hasn't. But there are nothing ordinary about the scene and the familiarity makes his gut turn once more.

The scene is worse than anything he has ever seen. Not only is the body unrecognisable but the dead tree that the threads are hung upon is topped with the head of the dead person. The eyes are ripped out and nowhere to be seen. Somebody has eaten them, his minds tells him.

"That's our feral wolf," Allison says grimly. Her face isn't expressing anything other than aridity but Derek knows better than to trust her face at the moment. He also knows that he himself is expressing some sort of facade that probably looks very much alike Allison's. While his eyes is darting from left to right, up and down his brain starts to spin again. Why didn't he feel the smell of the corpse? He still can't catch a single strand of the odour that he knows the body should be reeking of.

"I can't smell it," he says after a while of them just standing there, looking at the dead tree with the dead body in it. The urge to throw up is still strong but he fights it just like he fights the memories.

The first step he takes towards the tree is unsure but the next one is more controlled. As he gets closer, he starts too feel something. It's not a smell or even a sound but there is something dangerous still floating in the air. That's why he stops five feet away from the tree.

"I'm gonna call Stiles," Allison says. He can hear her turn around and take a couple of steps away from the dead tree. Derek can't find the willpower to move and just keeps on staring at the place where there used to sit a pair of eyes. He wonders what colour they used to be.

Death bothers him and not in a way that it would do to usual people. Usual people would be bothered by if they would go to heaven or hell or even live another life on this shit planet. Death bothers Derek the same way rain bothers usual people. He doesn't like it, it tends to destroy the rare good days of his life, it cannot be averted and he can never predict when it'll be around. One rainy day often leads to more rainy days and Derek have never owned an umbrella in his life.

From far away, he can hear how Allison's strangled voice tells Stiles about the scene. If he listens even closer he can hear Stiles' silence and then his waterfall of swearwords. As Derek finally gets his eyes off of the empty eye sockets he hears how Stiles calls for Scott and Isaac and says that they'll be there in a minute.

The forest goes silent and Derek can't even hear a single bird tweeting. It's as if they've shut up just because someone, no, _something_ , killed an omega and hung the dead body in a tree.

When he can't look at the scene any longer, he turns around and slowly walks back to Allison's side. He wishes he could be practical at this time and just start clean up it all so that he wouldn't have to see the whole thing any longer but he knows that something is off. All the feral wolves lately and now this. This _thing_ that he can't even smell, this _thing_ that makes memories he thought he burned up raise from the dead. Whatever did this knew that there would be werewolves here because why else would it hide its' smell this way? The smell is not only covered, it's completely gone. Vanished into thin air.

Half a minute later, the two wolves and the mage arrives.

"Fucking shit," is the first thing Stiles says. "This looks like something straight out of Hannibal."

"Yeah, this is definitely some sort of 'this is my design'- kind of shit," he then says as his eyes grow bigger. Derek just stands still.

Isaac puts a hand on his shoulder and sniffs the air.

"I can't smell it," he says. Scott agrees with a low rumble. His arms are around Allison who keeps on hiding her emotions. Derek doesn't blame her, he's doing the same.

Stiles take a few steps closer to the tree before Derek says anything.

"Don't go too close," he says. "There is some sort of pulsing energy around it. I don't think it will like a mage getting close."

Stiles doesn't turn around but acknowledges his statement by slowly nodding his head. Derek can see that his eyes are closed and his left hand seem to be shaking slightly.

"Magic," he says after a while of Derek only hearing the sound of Allison's jacket being scrunched together when Scott holds her.

Stiles' eyes are wide open as he walks back to the small group. There is something strange about him, something off.

"Somebody tried to get him to submit but when he didn't they killed him. The eyes are gone, probably in whoever did this' stomach." He doesn't look shaken by the data he somehow got out of a dead body sprawled over a dead tree. Derek cannot smell anything on the mage and figures that he's simply hiding whatever he feels in the only way he knows; concealing it.

Without any words, the leader just walking right past the little group.

"Shouldn't we clean this up?" Isaac calls after him.

"Do whatever you'd like," Stiles answer. "It's not our mess."

They all stand there for a while, not sure what to do. Scott is the first one to break the silence. He lets go of Allison and straightens up.

"I'll clean this up," he says and Isaac throws him a glance.

"Are you sure? Stiles didn't seem too sure."

"He's just shaken. And, he's also full of data and thoughts around this matter which means that he won't let himself be abrupt by anything until he's figured this out."

Isaac nods and offers to help but Scott declines and tells them all to go home with a sigh.

*****

"You haven't answered my calls," is the first thing Laura says when she accepts the call after only two signals. Derek had started hoping that she would not in fact answer.

"No."

"Okay, but why?" she whines and actually manages to sound sorry for herself. Derek feels fury start to ignite in his chest but instead of letting the fire grow out of control he pushes it back and buries the fuel in his crammed jar of fucked up feelings. It's strange how easily the wrath comes back after two weeks of it being gone.

He decides to ignore her question and goes on to question her instead.

"Do you know what happened to Peter?" he says between his teeth.

Laura seems taken aback by the question but doesn't push for an answer to her last question.

"I... Isn't he still in the hospital?"

"Are you sure?" he asks because he needs to be sure.

"No," she says. "I haven't visited him for a while since he is out of town. But I don't think our uncle in a coma have walked off into the night." She tries so hard to set her tone to familiar and a joking voice but she doesn't quite succeed.

"Can you check?" Derek asks.

"Why, are you thinking of visit-"

"No," he says and the line goes silent.

"Derek, I just need you to know ho-"

The call is ended before he can hear her apology. Not because he is mad but because he knows that he is weak and if he were to hear the end of her fake apology he knows that he'd forgive her.

Derek throws the phone on the bed and then leaves the room behind him as he walks out of there, determined to for once in his life not actually keep his speculations to himself. He fears to be shot down but figures that he actually should try to help.

That's why he finds himself knocking the door to the study where the pack keeps all of the books. The books about magic, spells and creatures.

Before anyone can tell him to come in so he can change his mind and turn around to never say anything, he opens the door and walks right in. Stiles' mouth is open and his whole body is turned around towards the door.

"Come in," he says as Derek slams the door shut behind himself and sits down next to Stiles. Around him, there are books. Not just any books, no, _ancient_ books are spread out everywhere. In front of him are a small jar of pills.

"Adderall," Stiles says when he catches Derek's lingering eyes upon the pills. "I used to take those all the time but now I only use them when I have a headache like this in front of me."

Derek doesn't say anything and Stiles stare at him for a while, like he's expecting Derek to say something. Which, fair enough, would make sense since he's the one to barge through a door.

Just as he tries to get his thoughts out, Stiles starts to speak, making Derek shut his mouth again.

"Sooo, you need anything? 'Cause, as you can see, I'm rather busy here."

Derek swallows and decides to just let everything out.

"My uncle... He survived the fire along with me and my sister. But he was only with us for a little less than two days and he acted strange. He's always been the black sheep and without his anchor, his wife and children, he started to go feral. The second day after the fire, me and my sister couldn't find him but we didn't look for him. After another day, we went out in the woods and found the exact same structure as we saw today. The only thing different is that Peter, our uncle, was lying at the bottom of the tree. He was in a coma and have been that way since then."

Stiles is still holding his gaze. There is no way out and Derek can see how his clockwork brain starts to spin. After two seconds Stiles blinks as if a lightning strikes him and then his right hand darts up to rub his eyes slowly.

"So your psycho, no offense, uncle killed a person cold blooded in the same way that we just witnessed?"

"Yes."

"Dude, I'm sorry, but your background is dark."

Derek doesn't say anything, just takes the words and throws them away. He already knows.

"Was it someone particular that he killed?"

"The one who set the fire," Derek says and blinks rapidly two times. Not because he needs to, but because he feels as if he needs to clear his sight and mind.

"Are you suggesting that this might be your uncle acting up again?"

"I don't know," Derek says. Stiles have stopped rubbing his eyes and are once again examining Derek carefully.

He then abruptly stands up and starts to dig through his piles of books until he finds three books that he sets in a brand new pile in the middle of the table.

"You're helping me search for whatever happens when a wolf looses its' anchor."

At first, Derek hesitates but then he takes the book laying on top of the small stack. As he opens the book and starts to skim through the first page, Stiles huffs out a laugh next to him that makes Derek turn his attention towards the mage.

"It's sad that the only way for me to get to know you is there to be a threaded corpse hung over a tree like a fucking horror movie." He then laughs a real laugh and sounds tired. A hand has already combed through his light brown hair but it comes back once again and messes up the style even more.

"God, let's just start," he then sighs and opens the book that's lying in his lap.

They sit like that for a few hours. Time doesn't pass quickly when browsing through ancient books consisting of fancy handwriting and a spelling that fits in the la belle époque. To find any useful information this way seems tedious but Derek doesn't find it to be as boring as he thought that it'd be. Instead it's oddly calming to hear pages being turned and the occasionally scribbles of pens or some comment about something that is either true or hilariously pseudo. They actually come across some good facts at some times but the information they find isn't grand.

When Derek has browsed through at least ten books and only found a few helpful hints, Erica slams the door open. Something seem to take her aback but she recovers quickly and puts a smirk upon her face.

"Looking cozy," she says.

"We're looking for something that eats somebody's eyes and then hangs them in a tree," Derek deadpans and receives a look from Stiles.

"Well, in that case you really need to get out of here. Stiles, you've been sitting here since ten o'clock and that was after you sat with your computer for one hour."

She suddenly seems serious.

"Either way, it's time for dinner and you two are not researching anymore this evening. Capiche?"

They both stand up and move in a zombie-like way out of the door. Once outside of the library, Derek feels more alive and when the smell of food hits him he's more than just alive. It's just then he can feel his stomach grumble with hunger.

The steak Boyd serves he eats right up and at eight thirty Derek falls asleep after two and a half hours spent with the pack. The nightmares are angry with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully it made sense. Hopefully.


	7. Speculations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently at one of the Canary Isles with my family so I don't know how much I'll post. Either, I'll post a lot because I'll be inspired or I won't post at all. We'll have to see.  
> Either way, enjoy this somewhat mashed together chapter that isn't really read through.

To call what he does that night for sleep is not fair. Derek doesn't sleep well, to say the least. Surely, he falls asleep at half past eight but that light sleep only lasts a few hours. After that, he wakes up in a pool of sweat in the middle of the night. Quickly after that, he realises that he won't be able to sleep again, so he lays there for a while, listening to his sped up heart beat slowly returning to its' normal pace. After that, he turns on a lamp in the dim room, searches for his sketchbook and then he walks on light feet towards the living room. He sits down there and starts to sketch without really thinking what he's portraying. Of course it turns out to be a person without eyes.

Now, he's still sitting in the sofa with heavy eyes that doesn't want to rest. The clock on the wall tells him that it's still early in the morning, five o'clock. Nobody is up yet, which is strange since it's a work day and they usually spend their mornings running. A few minutes later, he hears a pair of feet making their way down the stairs. As they stop on the bottom of the stairs, Derek turn around and sees a Stiles with bags under his eyes and hair in a mess.

"You want coffee?" he says and Derek just nods. Coffee would be nice.

It takes a few minutes for the tired Stiles to come into the room again. He sets the two cups down on the small table in front of them before he slumps down into the sofa.

After a few sips of coffee, Stiles rub his face and shakes his head quickly a few times as if he's trying to wake himself up.

"God, I used to be so much better at not sleeping." His voice is hoarse and sounds tired, just like the rest of him.

Derek doesn't set down his sketchbook as he reaches for the cup. The coffee is black and looks strong. As it touches his tongue, he finds that it is indeed both strong and black.

"You didn't sleep?" Derek asks.

"I know it looks as if I got a good night sleep but nope," Stiles responds.

"There were all these thoughts keeping me up and I had to check online for a few things which didn't really get me anywhere. There are very limited information about feral werewolves on Google, would you know?"

"You don't think there are any traces or even something we can go on?"

Stiles takes his cup of coffee and takes a few mouthfuls, seemingly ignoring how hot the drink is.

"We could always start with your uncle," he says and looks at Derek under his lashes.

Derek looks down at the sketch in front of him. It's rather morbid.

"Sure," he says shortly and looks up to meet Stiles' eyes. Their eyes lock for a short second before Stiles' pair retreat to the windows facing the woods. He's quiet for a while.

"Sometimes I just wish that my life would be normal. No wolves, no magic, just friends and family and _happiness_ ," Stiles sighs. "Then again I probably wouldn't be good at being a normal person. I mean, what do they even do? Like, work at banks and shit. Buy food for hungry babies, not a pack of hungry goddamn werewolves. I can't even figure out this mess, how could I ever figure out how to do taxes?" Stiles cringes at the word "taxes" and sets down his coffee cup on the table.

He rubs his eyes once more, gives Derek a tired and then opens his mouth just before Derek gets the time to even respond to what Stiles said.

"Forget I said that. I'm sorry, I'm not-"

Suddenly, he's silent. His brain is working, it can easily be seen when his eyes starts staring at a spot on the wall and his left hand start to shake nervously up and down.

"Oh yes," he says as he unfreezes and turn his wide eyes towards Derek.  
" _Yes_ ," he repeats and throws his both hands in the air. "How did I not see that?" A laugh full of relief huffs out of his mouth. "Oh my god!"

Stiles takes his cup of coffee again and starts walking with big steps towards the study while muttering to himself.

Derek is left in the sofa with his sketchbook sitting in his lap. His mind is full of answers and sentences in a mess. Reassuring sentences to Stiles about how he would be a perfectly normal human being, sentences that expresses how much Derek feel the same way and at last, a sentence asking if he can be let in on the big _'oh my god'._ All of which didn't get to be expressed.

When Derek finally sets down his sketchbook and chugs the last coffee Stiles re-enters the room.

"Can I lend your mind for a while?" he asks which makes Derek's brain stop.

"What?" Derek cracks.

"I need to lend your memory of the day you found your uncle's killings," Stiles says and have the decency to look a little ashamed.

Thoughts swirl through Derek's sleep deprived brain.

"Sure," he then says with a little sigh and Stiles light up.

"Really?"

"Why'd you ask if you didn't think I'd say yes?" Derek grunts.

"Sometimes grumpy people have their good days. This seems to be one of yours," Stiles says and offers a toothy smile.

Derek can feel how the comment tugs at the corners of his mouth.

Stiles sits down on the coffee table in front of the sofa face to face with Derek. He locks their eyes together and gently raises his fingers to Derek's temples. Stiles' fingertips are cold against Derek's feverish skin and sends a shiver down his spine that he quickly kills.

When Stiles start to speak again his voice is different. It's toneless, more gentle and more controlled and even.

"Relax and close your eyes," he says and Derek does as he's told. He lets go of his shoulders that are nearly touching his ears at this point. A breath that has been held in too long is let out and then he focuses on Stiles' voice.

"I want you to think back of the day you found your uncle in the woods." Pictures and memories flashes before his eyes and he can suddenly feel Stiles' presence  in his mind. It feels oddly intimate and strange to have someone else in his head. The awareness of Stiles feeling and seeing everything Derek experiences inside his head makes him itchy and a bit uncomfortable.

He tries his best to ignore the uncomfortable feeling and instead focuses on finding the right memory. It doesn't take much time because he's relived it countless times. If the memory has changed over time he wouldn't really be able to tell even if most components in the day is still very clear to him. However hard he's tried to forget about it, he has never succeeded.

Reliving the memory with Stiles there is different. When he can hear the birds tweet and the orange leaves rustle under his and Laura's feet, everything is clearer and if he didn't know any better he'd say he actually were in the forest outside their family house.

In the air, he can still feel a slight smell of smoke coming from the burnt down Hale house. His nose have already tried to ignore it and instead of letting the sadness inside his chest take over he focuses the best he can on the simple task of finding Peter. Laura is next to him and her presence really calms him down.

"His smell is stronger here," she says. Her voice sounds calm but Derek can hear the undertone of misery that is waiting to be released. They are merely two kids who just lost all of their family and now they're looking for their only living adult relative.

A nod seems appropriate at the time being, because Peter's smell really is hanging heavy in the air around them. There is something else mixed with Peter's scent that neither him nor Laura voices their concerns about. At the time being this is a task solely based around finding Peter, their uncle who has been walking in the woods. Derek can easily throw away the second strange scent as some sort of alcohol Peter have been drinking. It's even likely that it's alcohol.

They have been looking for Peter during the last forty five minutes, following his scent around in the forest. It's Derek who first spots something.

"Laura, look," he says and points towards the roots of a tree. At the bottom of the tree Peter is laying and when they start rushing towards him neither of them have the time to stop and look at the whole tree. No, both of them focuses on their uncle, laying a little too still at the bottom of the tree. His heart beat is steady but very slow, as if he's sleeping.

It's only when they are a few feet away from the scene that Derek can smell the sticking iron reeking smell of blood. When he stops and looks closer to Peter, he can see how his uncle's hand are covered with the thick liquid that have been turned to something hard during his time of laying there.

A frightened sigh from Laura makes Derek jump. It's first then he looks up and the sight strikes him. The tree that Peter is leaning against is dead and full of bloody body parts. Both of them have seen dead bodies before but never like this. On the top of the tree, on the highest branch the head is placed. The branch is spiked into the flesh and the blood coming from the head have covered the branch, making the tree blood red. When Derek's eyes continue to examine the head, he sees that there are no eyes on the corpse. Red and bloody eye sockets meet his eyes and it's at that point Derek turns around and throws up the little food he's managed to get down since the fire. Tears are coming to his eyes and he can feel Laura's arms around him. Her whimpers are matching his and together they stand in the forest with their arms around their other, clasping to each other like it their whole life. It's only when their cries have calmed down they find themselves with their first murder scene clean up.

When Derek opens his eyes again, Stiles have removed his fingers and he's watching Derek intensively and closely.

"I'm sorry," he says while still pinning Derek with his bizarre stare. At that point, Stiles seem to relax a bit and he drops the intense gaze and lets his eyes wander freely. Derek looks at the floor and tries to convince himself that what he just saw was just an echo from the past, nothing else. He still feels a bit sick to his stomach when the sticking smell of death is stuck in his nose.

"Are you okay?" Derek hears Stiles ask him. A hand is placed on his shoulder but Derek can't look up.

"I'm fine," he mumbles and swallows hard so he can sit up straight again.

"I wouldn't have asked if I knew that it was like that," Stiles says and sounds beat.

"Yeah, you would've," Derek huffs out and looks Stiles in the eyes.

"Maybe?" Stiles responds and shrugs while looking a little worrisome.

"It's okay, I agreed to it."

Derek's legs doesn't feel alright but he forces them to bear the weight of his body as he raise up. He really need breakfast right now. His stomach echoes empty and he is still tired from the lack of sleep.

"Do you hate me?" Stiles asks him just before he enters the kitchen. Derek turns around slightly and responds without thinking.

"No."

The words actually ring truly.

*****

"This is a copy cat," Stiles announces at the breakfast table when the clock strikes exactly seven and eight pairs of eyes turn towards him. Only eight because Derek was already looking at the mage.

"Are you talking about Hannibal again?" Erica asks.

"No, I'm talking about the actual murder that took place near our house, Erica Reyes," Stiles responds with bite. The others seem a little bit taken aback with Stiles bite, probably because he doesn't seem like one who usually bites with venom. But today Stiles is tired and wants to get to the point and Derek can understand that.

"We're dealing with a copy cat," Stiles repeats and now everyone listens. The empty coffee pot on the table seem to finally have made some good.

Nobody question how Stiles have found the information and Derek guesses it's because Stiles just seem to know shit.

"How does that help us?" Jackson asks and then receives a look from Danny.

"What?" Jackson snaps and Danny sighs at his friend.

"If it's a copy cat that means that they find inspiration in the original so we might have a clue what's coming next. There should also be some sort of relation or at least something that connects this copy cat and our original. So yeah, that will help us, Jackson."

Jackson doesn't say anything after that, just sit still and seem to be thinking.

"So what are we doing today?" Lydia says.

"You're going to work," Stiles says and paints on a tired smile. "Me and Derek here are working on this together. More is less today."

The pack members doesn't say anything but Derek can feel eyes on him. They're probably wondering why their leader chose him for help over them - the newcomer over the long time friends. They don't know that Derek is only there for the simple reason that he is a new book. Filled with information that Stiles need to seek out if they want to find this new killer. Derek tells himself that it's fine that way; that he doesn't care but it's harder to actually feel what he tells himself to feel. So even if he tries not to feel it, Derek can sense a sting in his heart. Why he doesn't know because he doesn't like the irritating mage.

When the pack have asked all their questions and given enough looks that Stiles continue to ignore, they leave. Derek sits awkwardly at his chair when Isaac yells out his goodbye. He gets up quietly and goes into the shower to let the warm water rinse off the tension that is sitting on his shoulders and weighting him down. It's strange how he's so familiar with everything in the bathroom. With closed eyes he easily grabs the bottle of shampoo and when he has finished cleaning his hair he can easily locate the showerhead and rinse off the bubbles in his hair. It's strange how at home he feels after only two weeks. Even stranger is how not strange he feels about the situation.

Derek stands under the hot stream for another five minutes and just tries to get his mind together. Sometimes it can be hard to unite the different parts of his, especially when he's stressed, confused or angry.

When his five minutes of thinking is up, he steps out of the shower and grabs the towel he brought with him into the bathroom. He dries himself quickly and then puts on the simple jeans and plain t-shirt he picked out before entering the shower. After running a comb through his hair a few times until the point where it looked fine Derek walks out of the room. There's a short walk to his room, where he throws his dirty clothes and the towel. He doesn't need to think or call out a name to find Stiles because he's been aware of where Stiles has been the whole time. It's not really an active decision; his hearing just makes him know stuff that would be creepy for any other normal human being to know. Thank god he is not a human being, then.

Derek walks into the living room where Stiles is half sitting, half laying in the couch with a big notebook filled with unreadable scribbles next to him. On the small coffee table yet another stack of books is resting. This one isn't as massive as the ones they skimmed through the previous day but there is still five books in various sizes and age.

"Hey, can we visit your uncle?" Stiles asks without looking up from the book he's reading. The question is unexpected but Derek goes with it.

"I can call my sister," Derek offers. Not because he's happy to have a reason to phone his sister but because he's not happy about having to see his uncle.

"Suuuure," Stiles says and finally looks up from his book. "But we can visit tomorrow, right? Today, you can read these _funny and interesting_ books while I search the internet for dirt on your uncle and his nursing home."

For some reason, Stiles is able to make any sentence sound okay. It's a weird characteristic but it works for him.

Derek just nods and eyes the pile of books. If he hurries he may be able to get out his sketchbook later. Sure, the business with the potential copy cat that may or may not involve his uncle that are in a coma is urgent but that doesn't mean he will find it interesting and happily do it.

Because of bad experiences with ancient books written by hunters and mages, Derek is surprised to find the books on the table somewhat interesting. Not that he would ever read them for the pleasure of just reading them but they are a lot better than yesterday's bad choices. Today he's looking for copy cats, werewolves' effects among both humans and other creatures, murders and whatever happens to werewolves when they lose their anchor.

Stiles is completely absorbed into his computer the whole morning. His eyes seem to be reading everything everywhere and it's only when he's taking notes his eyes move off the screen. By dinner time Derek slams shut his third book which makes Stiles jump.

"Don't let your anger issues out on those poor books," he says.

"Don't let the embarrassment over your nervous jump out over me," Derek responds and gets up to walk into the kitchen and get something edible.

"Derek!" Stiles calls after him as he leaves.

"Did you seriously just make a joke?!"

"Ha ha ha," Derek yells back as he opens the fridge door to search for eggs.

Twenty minutes later, Derek returns to the living room with two plates of fried egg sandwiches.

"Are feeding me?" Stiles asks with big eyes and makes grabby hands towards one of the plates in Derek's hands.

"Shut up," Derek responds but hands over one of the plates.

"This does not mean that you're getting out of calling Laura, you know that right?" Stiles sets down the over heated computer on the coffee table and gives the sandwich one hungry look before biting into it.

"I will do it," Derek mutters and also takes a bite of his sandwich. Just then, as if Laura knew they were talking about her, Derek's cell starts to ring.

It takes him two seconds to react and then he starts to dig around the couch for his phone. When he finds it, five signals have gone through and he answers without checking the caller ID.

"Derek Hale," he says into the phone. Stiles is watching him.

"Hey, Derek," Laura says and Derek breathes out a breath he didn't know he was holding in.

When Derek doesn't try to start a polite conversation, Laura starts to talk again.

"Everything's fine with Peter. Same old, same old except for the fact that he's got a new nurse."

"Okay," Derek says. After a while he adds an unwillingly _'thank you'_ that gets him a _'you're welcome, little brother'_ , to which he then hangs up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment what you think! It really means a lot to me!!


	8. Hide and Seek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter and I know that it have been far too long since I last posted. It's just that my inspiration have left me for a little while, I guess. So, if any of you know some good lengthy fics, please let me know! I'm in desperate need of some good fics to help spark my creativity!!! I guess that you can get hold of me on tumblr (which I rarely use but still) - I'm called dreamsofice there. You could also comment your suggestions on here, I guess? I don't know, you would just do me such a huge favor!!!  
> Other than that, hope you like this chapter (since it was a little bitch to write)!!

"He's there," Derek says after he's put down the phone, ignoring the fact about the new nurse that seems to be irrelevant to their situation.

Stiles has a hand curled into a fist under his chin that supports his head.

"Still in a coma?" he asks to which Derek just nods

"Then he doesn't have to _be_ there, does he? There is a lot of spells that once a mind is awake can be used to contact the brain even if the body is not in unstable state."

Derek shrugs it off but agrees when Stiles says that they still should visit the nursing home following day even if he doesn't want to. It's not like he can just cross his arms over his chest, put on a stubborn face and just say " _no, I dunnotwanntoooo_ " like a five year old while stomping his foot. No, that's not happening.

So Derek just sits down by the table again and opens the book in front of him with a slight sigh.

"Yeah, no fun, is it?" Stiles murmurs from his corner where he's once again made himself comfortable by the laptop that whirs in the background and creates a rather distracting sound.

A headshake is enough, Derek decides and lets his head shake a little. It's not comfortable to sit in the same position during hours and just eye through book after book after…

*****

"Have you found anything?" Erica asks Derek the second he enters the kitchen with a tired face. Her sudden sentence and voice nearly makes Derek jump. It also makes him question whether or not Erica has been standing quietly in the kitchen for a while just so that she could scare him with her mere presence.

"No," he mutters and walks past her to the sink to grab a glass and fill it with water.

"Don't be sour just because I scared you," she says with a light voice and smirks.

"Shut up," he just says and takes a few sips of the water to dampen his thirst. Erica just continues to smirk and starts to speak again, this time with a little darker voice.

"So what _did_ you two find?" She wiggles her eyebrows in a suggestive way and Derek chokes on the water when he realises what she means. _And_ what she probably read into his first response.

He starts to cough when the waters gets into the wrong pipe. Erica just gives him a funny look and lets him struggle on his own for a while.

"Me and _Stiles_?" Derek says when he's once again standing up straight. The sentence sounds so strange and Erica's suggestive look is wiped off her face.

"So nothing did happen?"

"No?"

His brain doesn't know what to think. Why, why, why? _Why?_ It doesn't seem right. Stiles barely tolerates Derek and he himself just feel strange around the mage. They do not understand each other and for Erica to think that they had some sort of secret relationship is just… weird.

"What's with all the tension then?" She just says and crosses her arms. Apparently it's okay for her to act like a stubborn five year old.

"There's no _tension_ ," Derek says and he knows that his voice sounds slightly defensive. Erica just smirks again with her arms still crossed.

"Yeah there are."

Derek grunts and fills his mouth with water. He glares at Erica and sets down the glass on the counter.

"I'll just ignore this," he says and walks out of the kitchen.

"Of course you will!" she calls after him and once again he can sense the resemblance to his sister.

Derek walks to his room, swiftly changes into a pair of track pants and a shirt and then heads out the door. It's rather cold outside the house but it doesn't bother him - it has never bothered him. If it wasn't for the new smells in the changed air he wouldn't have noticed the difference from the inside and outside. Without as much of a thought of where he is going, he sets off into the forest. Derek's mind is not in great condition after two days filled with solely reading, problems and reliving the horrors of his past. No, the past days have left his mind trembling by the edge of a cliff. The final weight to pull his mind down the precipice had strangely enough been the way too Laura-like talk with Erica. It strikes him as odd that the subject to make him fall over was Stiles but he guesses the subject didn't really matter when she had managed to somehow channel _Laura_. Stiles would've been new to get Derek out of balance but Laura isn't. She's always been good at giving Derek the final push to whatever trouble he is facing, sometimes in a way that helps him and sometimes, like this time, in a negative way that makes him fall down to a certain death. If he was human, that would be. No, being a werewolf makes his body is stronger and he won't have to feel the entire collision even if he sometimes wishes he could. That being said, just because his body doesn't react to the mind's pain doesn't mean the mind itself doesn't feel the pain because it does. Maybe he is less affected than a normal human, he doesn't know because one cannot measure pain in some sort of unit to compare to someone else's pain. No, the world doesn't work like that and even if it did he isn't sure whether or not he would actually want to know if his brain is like a normal human's or not.

The forest around him smells like dirt and lulls his spirit into a bittersweet state of mind. Derek's lungs are calmly taking up oxygen and replacing the air within themselves with new fresh air that he inhales. The steady rhythm of his feet hitting the ground makes him whole and composed again.

When the autumn evening falls over the forest Derek heads back to the house. Upon opening the door he can hear voices laughing and talking. He tries his best to sneak unnoticed into the hall but because it connects to the kitchen everyone looks up.

"Hey, Der, we were waiting for you!" Lydia calls out accusingly. "Where were you?"

Erica gives him a look that he ignores.

"I was out running," he says and bends down to untie his dirt covered shoes.

"I can smell that," Isaac laughs and gets an angry look from Lydia.

The fact that they'd actually waited for him to eat warms his heart a little bit and the wolf inside his mind is contently laying down with its' head resting on the big paws.

"Should I shower?" he asks.

"No, just come here, we're hungry!" Erica whines and Scott sighs. The conversation awakens again and soon Derek is sitting down next to Erica and Stiles. Stiles gives him a little look.

"If I were a werewolf with a highly sensitive nose I promise I would tell you to shower."

Derek doesn't know how to appropriately respond to that so he just gives Stiles a look similar to the one he received from said person.

"Thanks?" he says and Stiles smiles toothily.

"Hold onto those big words, buddy," Stiles says and turns his focus towards the food that is being handed to him by Boyd.

Derek looks down at his plate. Him and Stiles? No.

*****

"So do we like just ask to see him? Like 'hey, we're here to see my friend's very creepy uncle, cool right'."

"No, Stiles, I walk up there and ask them to see my very normal uncle."

"I don't think he's quite normal," Stiles says and turns his whole face towards Derek, taking his focus off the road.

"The road, Stiles," he groans. Derek would not like to die in a car crash just because Stiles hasn't planned the event to every step.

"I drive fine, thank you very much." Stiles unwillingly drags his eyes back to the road but is quick to start talking again.

"But won't they think it's weird that suddenly two people just randomly asks to see him when nobody has been there in forever?" His voice has a slight change and it sounds as if Stiles' is nervously tip toeing around.

"I don't think they will argument like that."

Stiles doesn't say anything, just pulls the steering wheel and parks near the entrance and kills the engine. His jaw is set.

Derek is the first one to get out of the car, to prevent any of Stiles stupid question. Where do his sudden nerves comes from? It was his idea in the first place and Derek had thought that nerves of steel comes with being half an alpha and human. He tries not to let Stiles' nerves get to him but it's hard to stay cool when Stiles is basically jumping up and down next to him.

Without saying anything they enter the building and walk up to the desk. Stiles might keep his mouth shut but he is looking all around himself like a paranoid thief worried that the police is lurking in some corner. Derek doesn't have the time to look for clues or tell Stiles to get his shit together because he is getting ready by turning on his charm. He is not ignorant to the fact that many people have told him that he have a pretty face.

"Hi," Derek says and fires off a smile. The blonde nurse behind the desk smiles back. "How can I help you, mister...?" She is fishing for a name, a name that Derek won't give to her.

"I'm here to visit Peter Hale," he says and smiles yet another time. It feels stupid to but the nurse just nods and doesn't ask for his name, just like he intended to.

"Is your _friend_ coming with you?" She gestures towards Stiles and Derek nods. She then smiles again and says that she can show them the way. Derek says that she can just give them the direction and they'll walk there themselves.

The nurse nods and looks down. She points towards a corridor to the right.

"Two right turns and then a left. You'll see the room when you're there." Derek thanks her and starts walking with Stiles besides him.

"Dude, she totally likes you," Stiles says once they've reached their first right turn. Derek ignores the words and keeps on walking through the white corridor with two dead plants sitting on the floor.

"And that's like the first time I've seen you smile that bright so I guess that's why she fell so hard and so fast."

"I smile," Derek responds because he do smile. It also takes less effort to respond than to ignore Stiles.

"Yeah?" Stiles says. "Show me."

They have reached the door and Stiles is standing by the door handle. Derek gives Stiles a look that tells him that he is a child. Why is everyone but Derek allowed to act like children?

"I won't-"

Stiles raises his eyebrows and Derek rolls his eyes. Then he drags up the ends of his mouth and show his teeth.

"That is not a smile, that is downright scary. Now I know why you doesn't smile more often," Stiles says and backs away from the handle so Derek can open the door.

Stiles smile fades away as they open the door. To Derek, nothing seems wrong except for the fact that he's staring at his uncle again after far too long time. He doesn't look like the uncle Derek sees in his memories. This Peter is scarred from the fire and his eyes are staring out into thin air. He doesn't smell like he used to and is instead covered in the hospital-like smell the whole building reeks off. Somewhere Derek can sense a slight female perfume as well but he can't let his mind stop on small details. The wolf is up and spinning as it likes to do whenever things like this hits him in the face. Around and around it spins.

How did he forget the face of the burnt Peter? Derek swallows hard, closes the door behind them and takes a step into the room. That's when Derek notices that Stiles have closed his eyes and is standing with one hand swiping rapidly through the air, as if searching for something. His lips are closed but Derek can see how they're moving slightly, humming with words Derek do not understand. He knows better than to try to talk to the mage and feels suddenly very alone with his uncle. A creepy feeling of being watched is sneaking up on him.

He takes yet another step into the room. It's a boring room with a bed, a window and the simple chair that someone have placed his uncle in. Like eyes get sucked towards a car crash Derek's eyes are sucked back to Peter. He swallows once again and takes in the full sight. Somebody have combed the messy hair to try and cover up the fact that half of Peter's face is destroyed along with some of the hair.

A hand grasps Derek's arm.

"We need to get out of here," Stiles says and fixates Derek with his big eyes that are wide open.

Without another word Stiles turns around and quickly walks out of the room. Derek gives his uncle another look and then leaves behind Stiles.

"Why?" Derek says. Stiles just turns around and gives Derek another look.

"Because I just remembered I left the stove on back home."

Part of Derek wants to laugh but the cool stare Stiles is giving him makes him just keep on walking behind Stiles. They hurry out of the entrance and it would probably look really strange to the nurse behind the desk if she was to still stand there, which she doesn't because the desk is thankfully empty.

Once inside the car Stiles starts the engine without a word and hit the gas.

"What was that about?" Derek barks out as the jeep jumps forward and they leave the parking lot within seconds.

Stiles' jaw is still set but his shoulders are not held as tightly as they were when they were leaving the building.

"There was another mage, a powerful one. Peter's room was filled with remains of heavy spells. The caster is not educated enough to cover the tracks so I could find some information but when I was looking through the remains somebody got hold of my presence. They could only have caught a glimpse but since whoever that was cared enough about your uncle to try to resurrect him several times I figured they would care if I was looking into their creepy spells."

Stiles takes a deep breath after finishing his small speech and then drives against a red light. Gears in Derek's head starts to spin and the wolf speed up, just like the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT DID YOU THINK?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!!!?!?!
> 
> (leave me fic suggestions now!!!! I love me some good angst, slow builds and PROBLEMS!!!!! But I can eat pretty much everything at this point. But seriously though, I love me some tragic. Have you read my fic where I killed a guy?! Probably not, I'm just saying it's sad. I'm gonna stop ranting now, sorry.)


	9. Source of Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyyyyy, it's been a while. Guess I needed some time off. I've been reading a lot of fics again and I finally found my creativity again. I will finish this fic, because I do like it even if my Stiles, Derek, Scott and whoever may not be spot on. YES EITHER WAY, ENJOYYY

The following morning, the house is a mess. Scott is angry with Stiles for entering dangerous land without backup and Stiles is angry with Scott for not trusting him to take care of himself and the pack. All the betas are low and even Jackson have shut up and is tip toeing around quietly. Everybody is making their way out of the house as quickly and quietly as possible while Derek is sitting in his room with a closed door. He has nowhere to go and he feels needless. Displaced and out of his elements. At his home, he is usually the one to shout or get shouted at. There is also an underlying tone of protectiveness in Scott’s voice, a tone that is hinting to Stiles that he misplaced his trust on the new guy that isn’t even part of the pack. It stings a little to hear the tone through walls and a whole floor but he takes it because he knows that Scott has the right to keep Derek on his “possible horrible person”- list. That Stiles trusts Derek enough for him to bring Derek along on adventurous investigations on unfamiliar grounds is something that is bugging Scott and to be honest, it does make Derek wonder. Why is he chosen to be trusted that blindly? Maybe Stiles has checked him deeper and more thorough than the occasional too personal question that is blurted out now and then from Stiles’ mouth.

"... You never trust me on my own, but come on Scott, we're two leaders in this pack! You have to step down from your fucking high horse!"

"I need to step down? Ever since you started using your magic more you just act like you know everything. Just because you’re smarter than me doesn’t mean that I’m useless!"

The voices are impossible to shut out. His ears are picking up everything and he can hear how Stiles are walking around now, probably gesturing angrily with his hands while Scott are standing with crossed arms. Stiles’ heartbeat have raced a bit in the last two minutes or so. It speaks of the argument being in its’ most heated moment because it can’t possibly go faster than it’s now. The heartbeat feels loud and even if hearing heartbeats never have bothered Derek – he’s always heard them – hearing how upset people are based on their heartbeats are something he isn’t very fond of.

"You don't get it, do you? It's great that you've got all that werewolf power and all, but all I got is my magic and my brain. I know you want to protect me, Scott, but I can actually take care of myself, you know. I'm not just some weak human anymore." Stiles doesn't sound as angry anymore and when Scott responds after a few seconds his voice have also calmed down.

"I'm sorry," Scott says, "I just got scared, I guess."

"I'm sorry too," Stiles admits and sighs.

The house goes quiet for a while and Derek nearly starts to move again from his uncomfortable position on the bed, crammed up against the wall with his legs under him.

"We still have a huge problem on our hands," Stiles says. The voices are more distant and according their smells, Derek guesses they’re in the study.

"It's a fucking headache, is what it is," Stiles continues, "And all this crap with Derek's uncle is just confusing."

"What are we supposed to do?" Scott asks.

Another sigh comes from Stiles. "To be honest, I don't have a clue. First we have to find out whoever is responsible for this shit so and then we'll act. So, we'll have to continue dealing with the omegas and research, I guess."

"Are you still off from work?"

A reluctant yes can be heard from downstairs.

"You do look after Derek, don't you?"

"Of course, Scott, I wouldn't let Laura down." There is a small pause and then Stiles continues with a lower voice that Derek probably isn’t supposed to be hearing. That is the thing about being a born werewolf, non-born werewolves have a hard time developing the same ability to hear as clear as a born werewolf.

Derek are still sitting on the bed and staring out into nothing. He is focused on the voices, for every word is hard to hear and he must really tell his ears to pick up everything, but he can still hear them.

“Talking about Derek, I know that you doesn’t like that I took him with me but I get a vibe off of him that I can trust him and somehow he’s become very involved in this.”

When Scott doesn’t say anything Stiles continues.

“Dude, you have to admit that he really is in the middle of all this shit! He’s like John in the first episode of Sherlock, if it was Watson’s uncle that was the killer!”

To that, Scott laughs a little and the mood seems to lighten up a bit.

“Are you Sherlock?” Scott says, sounding amused.

Stiles is probably nodding, because that makes Scott laugh more and then answer.

“You always talk about how Sherlock and Watson needs to get it on, that they’re your “OTP”.”

*****

At one o’clock Derek is sitting in the couch with his sketchbook. There are headphones in his ears and someone singing about a butcher with a smile into his ears. On the paper in front of him, a face is being formed. Derek likes to think about drawing as sculpting the paper, bending lines as he wanted them and with every pencil stroke he either removes something or adds something to the picture he’s making.

“HEY!” A shout from the kitchen nearly makes Derek jump. He’s thankful that he doesn’t because otherwise his current piece would have an ugly line right across it.

“What?!” He shouts back, a little angrily.

“Do you want coffee?” Stiles screams back, ignorant to the fact that he doesn’t, in any way, need to scream at the top of his lungs to make himself audible. The offer is nice though and Derek wouldn’t turn down coffee.

“Sure,” he says loudly because it feels stupid to scream when they’re only two rooms apart. Half a minute later, Stiles walks into the room holding two cups of coffee. It smells really good.

Stiles sits down besides Derek. There is a couch big enough to house nearly an entire pack and he chooses to sit next to Derek, who sets down his sketchpad to grab hand of the mug in front of him. He wishes that he could be irritated with Stiles for choosing the available space just next to him – maybe even too close because their knees are nearly touching – but he cannot. Derek decides to blame the lack of irritation on the fact that Stiles earlier had basically told Scott that he trusted him. He didn’t want to feel thankful and somewhat happy that somebody in the world actually trusted him but he did.

“For how long have you been drawing?” Stiles asks out of nowhere. Derek turns his gaze towards the mage and raises an eyebrow.

“For a long time,” he responds.

“If my life was a movie, you’d definitely be the mysterious asshole. You’d probably get a lot of fangirls because mysterious assholes always get a large fanbase that talks about how everyone just doesn’t get their big crush,” Stiles says and takes a mouthful of coffee and makes a face.

“It’s hot,” he breathes out when he’s swallowed the caffeinated drink.

“Why would anyone want to watch a movie about a messy mage?”

“Hey! My life is plenty interesting, thank you very much,” Stiles says and throws first Derek a slightly angry gaze and then eyes the coffee suspiciously.

“No,” Derek says and takes a sip of coffee without burning his tongue off. If he would though, nobody would know because it’d just heal right away.

Stiles watches as Derek takes a sip and doesn’t get burnt.

“First; I don’t think I like this coffee anymore since it burns me and not you and secondly that was seriously a bad comeback, Derek, you can’t just say no when you don’t agree. It doesn’t work like that. If you’re such a desperado for not using words you shouldn’t try to argue with me about nothing.” Smiles fires off a big smile and holds up his mug.

“Thanks for the feedback,” Derek deadpans and brings up his mug to click it together with Stiles’.

Stiles gives him a funny look and then ogles his coffee for a second before downing the whole mug in one go. His rather unusual action makes Derek go still and just look at the strange human next to him.

“Shot, shot, shot…” Stiles cheers himself quietly and then makes a grimace.

“It’s doesn’t taste that good when downing it all like that,” he then says.

“Then why do it?” Derek asks.

Stiles shrugs. “I really needed that caffeine, buddy.”

Derek is silent for half a minute while Stiles is sitting unusually still and watching Derek sip his coffee with a predatory look on his face. Like Stiles want Derek to offer him some of his coffee. Yeah, no.

It feels a little bit awkward and a little bit scary to sit next to someone and have nothing to say. Derek doesn’t like to talk all that much but neither does he like the uncomfortable silences he always find himself unwillingly taking part in. Laura always says that he’s just lurking around, being mysterious and sour when he in fact is rather insecure. For Derek, it’s usually either sarcasm or rudeness.

“Any new clues about… everything?” he asks after a while, not only to fill the silence but also because he is genuinely interested in some twisted way.

“No,” Stiles sights and for a moment his eyes looks downright sad. The tired face is quickly wiped away when Stiles stands up again.

“Hey, do you want more coffee because I _need_ more. Like, it’s my energy source. Just think what I could do if I could have all of the coffee!” Then Stiles face goes blank and Derek can _see_ how the gears in his brain start spinning.

“Oh my god,” Stiles then says and runs a hand through his hair, tugging a little at it. “Of fucking course, how could I not see this sooner?”

“Am I stupid or something? GOD!” Stiles grunts and slaps himself in the head as his eyes starts returning to the actual room. Derek just sits in the same spot as he did before. To witness whatever is happening in front of him is both amusing and terrifying. For a split second Derek could’ve sworn the man looked possessed and then he starts sighting about how stupid he is. Derek himself isn’t stupid, he gets that Stiles finally realised why the other mage had done something but he cannot connect the dots in the same fashion that Stiles just did. His mind is not really thinking about the other mage, rather than the mage in front of him that is currently cursing himself as the most incapable human being ever. The mage in front of him that is possibly one of the oddest humans he’s ever come across.

“What?” Derek barks out after thirty seconds too much of Stiles’ cursing. It’s first then Stiles looks over and shuts his mouth.

“Oh, but there’s more to it, isn’t it?” he says and blinks a couple of times before going back to walking to and fro in the living room, leaving Derek once again sitting clueless on the couch. The room is quiet now, except for Stiles’ racing heart and his small hums of unrecognisable words coming from his lips.

He stops after yet another half a minute of humming and making Derek just sit there feeling foolishly stupid. Now Stiles finally is standing still and one of his hands is in his hair, tugging at it again.

“It’s actually rather brilliant,” he says before locking eyes with Derek who feels pretty done with the situation.

“What is it?” Derek snaps and Stiles smiles toothily.

“I know now,” he says. “Who knew that all I needed was a little coffee? I should totally take shots of coffee more often if this is the reward,” Stiles babbles on.

“Stiles!” Derek barks out with a frown etched into his forehead.

“Uhm okay… Well, long story short, I know where all of these goddamn feral wolves comes from.”

*****

“Stiles,” Lydia says as they’ve all sat down around the dinner table. “You look like you’re about to explode or something.”

“Yeah, wipe that smug smile of your face,” Jackson adds in a bad attempt at being cool.

The nervous energy coming from both Stiles and the other pack members is hanging heavy in the air and Derek kind of wants to cover his nose because it reeks of nervousness and Derek has always associated that smell with his own anxiety.

“Stiles!” Scott says and looks equally thrown off-balance as the betas.

Stiles takes a deep breath and then smiles smugly.

“Y’all remember the fugly omegas that have been running around our woods lately?”

“You’re so dramatic, Stiles,” Erica sights.

“Shut up, Erica,” Stiles says.

“Want to know what they have in common with your hairy asses? Well, they’re rather magical, if I’d say so myself. Magical creatures, that is. All these magical creatures bear a sort of… energy in them. Magic juice that is kind of convertible into pure magic potency. No, Jackson, stop rolling your eyes, this isn’t a physics lesson.” Stiles looks over to Jackson and gives him an annoyed look before continuing.

“The murder scene we found was not a warning to us but a harvesting ritual to collect the feral wolves’ magic. Okay, moving on from this to who’s actually done it. There is a nurse at the nursing home where Derek’s creepy uncle is staying who was very suspicious and had performed all sorts of spooky magic on said creepy uncle. My very educated guess is that this nurse is trying to resurrect creepy uncle by harvesting the magic from all these omegas. By doing so, she’s created a small hole in the natural energy that now is attracting all these feral wolves.”

When finishing up his explanation, Stiles looks content and proud. Derek still feels cold by knowing that Peter is alive. That his feeling of being watched during his and Stiles’ short visit to Peter had been real didn’t make him feel any better. Derek had thought that it was scary to be one of the two Hales alive but now he wishes that Peter in fact is dead and Stiles wrong. Because there was no way that Peter could be okay. Not after having lost his anchor, his life and then his peaceful sleep.

*****

 _Are you alright?_ Says a text message from Stiles in the middle of the night when Derek is lying in his bed trying to get comfortable. It’s not working.

 _No_ is what he wants to write, but it’s too true and the truth is scary. _Peachy_ is what he nearly writes, because quoting Stiles would be sarcastic. What Derek ends up writing is nothing because he cannot find the words and because feelings are something he’s foreign to. Better to let Stiles think that he’s sleeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOW EVERYTHING IS REVEALED!!!! PLAN NEXT?????


	10. Growth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, remember me? Remember this story? No????  
> Oh well, here you are either way. Yes, I've been slightly out of it since, you know, I have CRAZY amounts of school work. Like, why did I even choose to take so much maths and science???  
> Well, well, here's a chapter. This is exciting and it took me a few days to get back into the story. Now that I'm all in you can all expect the last chapters to get up soon. Enjoy!

Derek's phone starts buzzing. For the second time he sighs and ignores the call from Laura. The phone is angrily spinning in circles on the kitchen counter in front of him and Derek eyes the phone with an equally angry expression. Laura has been bugging him for a while with her calls. In the beginning of his stay she'd avoided to call him, acknowledging that she did know what space was and that she very well understood that it was something he needed from her. But her amount of calls had increased since he called her on Stiles' demand and now she could call him a few times every day. It was getting annoying and he had been thinking about blocking her but he’s also fully aware that he actually doesn't have the strength to actually do it. Even if he's angry with her she still is his sister.

The only reason he actually feels a little tempted to answer is because he wants to know what the pack have been telling her. Has she been filled in on all the shit they're going through or is that some kind of secret? Do they tell her everything he does, what he eats and how many times he on a daily basis swears? The thoughts crawl around in his body like ants and he doesn’t hear someone enter the room until he sees a hand grab the phone. Derek doesn’t even have the time to grab the phone back and throw it away while sneering at the intruder.

“Heeeey, Laura,” Stiles says. During the second Derek couldn’t react, Stiles had the time to lean back on the counter in front of Derek and now he’s standing there like nothing. Big eyes are creeping on Derek, smirking under long lashes.

“Hello, Stiles.” Laura sounds surprised from the other end of the call. The voice that’s usually so strong sounds a bit off.

“What are you doing?” Derek mouths angrily to Stiles, who just eyes him, chews on his bottom lip and smiles slightly. Wolf or not, Derek doesn’t dare to actually voice his inner thoughts. The knowledge that Laura would hear him the second he even tried to stop Stiles is enough for him to shut his mouth and just stare. The ants are crawling up his bloodstream and the wolf in his head is angrily walking to and fro.

“How are you today?” Stiles proceeds to sound cheery without letting his eyes actually smile. There is no teasing in his voice and Stiles looks at the ground.

“Fine,” says the grating voice from the small speakers. “Where is my brother?”

The question is asked with faked nonchalance and it actually stings a little to hear his sister sound so calmly desperate.

“All saaaaafe and sound.”

Derek’s foot is vibrating against the kitchen floor and he doesn’t know where to focus his eyes.

“Can I talk to him?”

Stiles taps his fingers rapidly against the counter. The sound is annoying and it makes Derek want to slap Stiles across those long fingers and get them to be still.

“Sorry, Laura, but he’s not here. Maybe try to call tomorrow?” Stiles says and the wolf spins in circles as usually.

“Yeah, I’ll try that… Bye, Stiles,” Laura says and hangs up. Derek is quick to lean forward and grab the phone out of Stiles’ hand.

“You were about to answer her!” Stiles accuses.

“No I wasn’t,” Derek says and puts away the phone.

“Denial, denial, denial…” Stiles sings and turns around while stomping on all of Derek’s nerves. His brain is spinning around and all the built up anxiety and anger starts to ignite.

“Why do you always do this? I can manage myself, Stiles.” It’s a bit hard to not go into full ‘I can do it myself’-mode but Derek swallows hard and focuses everything to not growl. Instead his hands are pressing into the counter behind him.

Stiles turns around and eyes him with eyes that are missing all of the usual wit and sarcasm.

“You need it, Derek. Just realise how closed in you are. Wolves are social animals.”

“I don’t need you to pity me,” Derek says sharply.

Stiles swallows and takes a step into Derek’s private zone.

“I’m not, asshole. I _know_ you. I’ve been _there_.” Two fingers jabs into his chest two times and two brown eyes are watching him intensively.

“I’m pushing you because I’d wanted that somebody that cared about me would’ve pushed me.” Instead of the expected sharpness, there is a tender tone in his words.

Suddenly, Derek can feel the tension Erica was talking about. It’s dragging them together like magnets and even if Derek’s still annoyed his throat feels dry and strange. Like numerous times before, his eyes are dragged towards the lips of the man in front of him. It’s happened before, but it’s first now he actually notices the strange pull and lurking intoxicating feeling of slightly not being in control. Inside of his brain, the wolf is spinning in circles.

Pulling his eyes of the lips so close, Derek swallows and tries to keep the wolf calm. The anger and the need to scream he’d felt seconds ago are long gone. Now disbelief and a dangerous curiosity are hovering just above him, just waiting to be released and take over his mind for a couple of hours.

In front of him, Stiles is taking a small step towards Derek, moving closer as if he too can feel the magnetic field around them, pulling them closer. When Stiles now is solely a few inches away from Derek’s body, the wolf suddenly stops. Hazel eyes are searching for blue eyes but the blue pair of eyes can’t muster up the courage to actually meet the other eyes. They are afraid of what they might find. Because seeing a future and friendship in another being is dangerous and Derek cannot risk it. He’s been risking it far too many times and every single time it has ended with death. Starting in his fingers, a tingling feeling is arising. The feeling is unpleasant and as it spreads through Derek’s entire body, the need to run away grows stronger. The brown eyes are burning a hole in his skull and the wolf cannot take it anymore. With a roar it gets up again and starts spinning in ludicrous small circles.

“Don’t,” Stiles says as Derek moves away.

“I can’t,” Derek barks out. “Don’t fucking get in my brain, you-“ He shuts his mouth, causing a slight snap to ring through his entire skull.

“I’m going out,” he then announces and hurries towards the door. Run, run, run.

He needs an out, out, out. A low growl starts to grow from the discontent wolf that’s still spinning in slim circles. Instead of actually taking a step back and thinking, his legs are leading him towards the door.

When the door closes behind him reality hits him. The cold air surrounding him makes it hard to breath for a short second and he gasps for air. His lungs set on fire during the first few breaths but as his stressed heart calms down the fire quickly burns out. As the burning sensation in his lungs ends another takes off. With the back of a dirty hand, he wipes the lonely tear making its’ way down his face. Although he is not new to tears, it feels foreign to capture them and he almost feels inclined to taste them. He wonders if they still taste like sorrow and death.

Revelling for too long is dangerous, he knows that. With that in mind, Derek takes off towards the woods because a long run can do wonders for a clogged mind. Despite being able to hear Laura telling him not to run away from his problems, he never looks back. It’s a characteristic he’s been known to have since… forever. He’s always been the quiet one, the thinking one, the one with too many thoughts and doubts. Now he’s once again running in the forest with his mind set at not thinking too much. Steady breaths, steady breaths.

While counting the breaths, he’s desperately trying to ignore Stiles’ words that are still ringing in his head. He tries to avoid Stiles’ brown eyes that are stuck on his retina. He tries to not acknowledge the crumbs of tension still left in his muscles. He tries not to think about the whole situation too hard. It doesn’t work.

As he gets further and further into the forest, the trees get bigger and bigger. His breath is even and although he has since long ago given up on trying to not think about Stiles it makes him feel a little safe that at least his breath is in control.

How come he’s only realising now that Stiles is too close to him? The pulling in his chest, how come it’s only now he’s acknowledging it? Deep down Derek knows the answer but he tries to avoid it.

Because to acknowledge that he’s been avoiding the feelings means that he might grow as a person and he can’t have that, now can he? With a sigh, Derek stops to lean against a tree. The forest is beautiful and reminds him a bit of Laura for some reason. His sister likes trees.

Derek’s chest is heaving up and down, down and up. There’s sweat in his hair and the cotton shirt he’s wearing is sticking uncomfortably towards his body.

A sound coming from behind him makes him turn around.

*****

Stiles is standing dumb fooled. He’s annoyed and his fingers are tapping rapidly against the kitchen counter next to him. Thoughts are whirling around like a giant storm ready to cause destruction on everything in its path.

“He just left. Of course he just fucking left, that fucking jerk,” Stiles swears under his breath and straightens up. Pacing through the kitchen, he starts trying to wrap his mind around what actually happened. They were getting closer and closer and Derek had gotten under his skin. At first, Stiles hadn’t realised why he cared for the lonesome wolf but something about his presence reminded him of himself and wanted to help. Only, Derek wasn’t like Stiles and had so much more depth than just his bitchy attitude. So yeah, naturally that had made him fall for the jerk.

However, love had always been hard for Stiles since he had a tendency to fall for the wrong people. Not wrong as in bad or stupid people but wrong as in out of his league and people that he was friends with. Friends don’t fall in love with friends.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Stiles is stupid. And yeah, Derek too is stupid because of course Derek would react by running away. And now what? Is he supposed to look for the wolf or just wait it out?

The magic is rushing through his body, creating energy that’s tensing him up. Even if he has been in control of the magic for a few years it’s still a strange concept to him. Daily usage hasn’t affected the tingle in his fingertips every time he isn’t moving. At an early age he’d been diagnosed with ADHD and it wasn’t until he’d started tapping into the magic inside of him that his diagnose had gotten better. Sure, he was still the hyperactive kid that didn’t know how to shut up but it was a lot better. At least he didn’t get the panic attacks anymore.

The very second he fishes up his phone from the left pocket of his jeans his something feels off. Not just off as in realising he’s slightly in love with the sour wolf living with his pack, but off as in seriously wrong. There is a shift in the areas natural magic and the change sends shivers down his spine. Usually he has a hard time focusing but during the second the slight shiver controls his body all thoughts freezes and his mind focuses on one thing.

The natural force field covering the pack’s territory is something he knows like the back of his hand. During his early training he had every morning walked around the lands and taken in every small bump, every coarse surface and every slight shift in the magic field. To summarize it all, he knows how everything is supposed to feel and this damn isn’t how it’s supposed to feel.

And of course, as if his head isn’t already a mess, he recognises the energy change. It’s the crazy nurse and Derek’s psycho uncle.

The magic shifts again and the small bump that had appeared a second ago is now gone. Stiles swears when reality returns and time unfreezes. However, to sort away the thoughts of how close he’d been to Derek is now easy. Okay, easier.

Stiles quickly dials Scott’s number on the phone he’s been holding in his hand. As the signals goes through, he started moving towards the hall. Along the short walk he picks up a hunting knife that’s thrown on the drawer next to the hall. With hands used to handling the weapon, he straps the knife securely to his body. When Scott answers the phone Stiles is searching for his gun in the basement.

“Hello?” Scott answers as Stiles finds the belt under a dirty shirt reeking of sweat and _Jackson_.

“Code psychotic uncle and creepy nurse,” Stiles states into the phone. With a shrug he mumbles a few words and the belt along with the gun is tied around his waist. Good.

“Derek’s out in the woods brooding alone and I just felt that crazy nurse’s magic in our territory. I’m going out now and I need you to gather the pack for me. At least Isaac, Allison and Erica, okay?”

“Stiles, you’re not going out there alone. It’s-“

Stiles jogs through the house towards the door.

“Yeah, buddy, it’s dangerous, I know. Fuck that, okay? You didn’t see those memories and didn’t feel that psycho-magic. These are not nice people.” Jogging shoes and a raincoat doesn’t seem like appropriate fighting attire but Stiles gets it on quickly.

“Wait for us, Stiles. Derek can handle himself, do you hear me? Think about yourself, don’t risk it, Stiles,” Scott snarles. There’s both a bit of fear and authority in his voice. The alpha is breaking through and Stiles just can’t take it, not now.

“He cannot handle himself, oh my god, why does everyone think that? And don’t fucking try to alpha me, it doesn’t even work.”

Stiles opens the door and takes in a big breath, wishing he had a werewolf nose. He’s just about to hang up and take off but then he raises the phone again.

“Come quickly.”

The adrenaline is already pumping in his veins and the magic is basically making sparks as he lets the magic loose and starts searching through the complex pattern of the territories energy field.  

*****

To wake up in the woods feels like waking up from a coma. Trying to lift his head up, he realises there’s a strange pounding feeling in his skull. Under him, there’s a bed of wet leaves that’s made his shirt damp. His senses are dulled and his head feels strange.

“Derek,” says a voice he hasn’t heard for ages. Upon hearing the voice, his body freezes. It’s as if he’s taken back to when he was a small child and part of him wants to hug the person uttering his name. At the same time he’s terrified. Memories of him and Laura finding the body in the woods comes to mind and slows his already slow brain down.

Numerous times he tries to open his mouth, but no words are coming out and his body won’t do as he’s telling it.

“Derek, Derek, Derek.”

The voice comes nearer and the leaves are rustling as feet are pressing them down and stirring them up at the same time. Blurry edges are lining the edges of his vision and are threatening to take over. Instead he tries to focus his confused eyes and move them but it’s impossible. The frustration is short and he can’t seem to focus on getting any task right.

“Hello, nephew,” Peter says and walks into his sight. “You’ve really grown since I last saw you, haven’t you?”


	11. Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, yeah, the first part of this chapter isn't super well written but I don't really have the patience to rewrite it so sorry for that. I'm not really good with fight scenes, I guess. Either way, the end of this is probably like one of my favourite parts. You'll know why. Did I say to much now??? Naaaaaah.

Panic washes over his tensed body but he still cannot move. It’s as if he’s chained to the ground and he’s desperately trying to get rid of the chains keeping him shackled to the ground.

Inside Derek’s brain the wolf is acting strangely. Despite being scared it’s just sitting relatively still and not getting ready for attack and not even trying to figure out how to get out of the situation. It makes Derek uneasy to feel so alone without the wolf. Without the wolf he’s just a normal, shitty and breakable human with a little bit of extra strength.

“Oh, Derek, don’t be scared, I’m not going to hurt you.” Peter lets out a raw laugh and stretches his arms out in front of him.

“Doesn’t it feel _good_ to be alive? Knowing that they’re all… dead.” At the end of the sentence, Peter’s cheery voice grows cold and his face hardens.

“You should know all about that, shouldn’t you, Derek?”

There are so many questions rushing through his mind but he cannot voice a single one of them. Derek tries to swallow a few times but nothing really happens.

“Oh yeah, I think I forgot to mention the most important part. My lovely little friend Jennifer over here is helping me get back. However, sadly nature requires some small… offerings to complete my transformation back to reality. And, since you’ve always been my favourite, you get to be the last, lucky offer!” Peter smiles toothily but his eyes are dead.

“I won’t _kill_ you, stupid. You’ll solely be put into a nice little state of… nothing. Kind of like how I was until dear Jennifer found me. Think of it as an exchange, Derek. I spent my time in the prison world and now it’s time for you to serve off your time for destroying the entire family. I hope you enjoy your stay.” Peter wets his lips and stops moving his hands. He is currently standing over Derek, bending his back a little to really force Derek to see him.

Derek finds it hard to concentrate. His hearing is dulled and it’s hard to pick out specific sounds. The voice of his uncle is near enough for him to hear somewhat clearly but it’s interrupted by the soft chanting of someone a little further away.

 _“I didn’t destroy the family,”_ he wants to say but can’t. When he tries, only a pathetic gasp for air comes out and Peter smiles.

“You’ll get used to not being able to communicate, trust me.” The ache in Derek’s head is getting worse and the imaginary chains tied around his arms and legs are starting to strain him down even more than before.

After a solid minute of Peter just staring into Derek’s eyes, Peter straightens up. The chant from before is growing stronger and Peter seems pleased with that.

“Jennifer, are we done here soon? I haven’t eaten for literally years.”

Just as Peter disappears from Derek’s by now, very blurry sight, a loud noise breaks the otherwise silent forest.

“You just fucking wait for me to be done with you, old man,” someone screams angrily. There’s yet another sound of a gun being fired and then a soft thump of something heavy falling onto leafs right next to Derek.

The last thing Derek can hear before everything turns black is complete silence. The chanting has stopped.

*****

Stiles is thankful that he’s the one out of the two mages that actually knows this forest. The psycho nurse doesn’t seem to notice his presence and for that he thanks some gods he doesn’t even believe in. Despite the small bump in the forest’s magic field he is creating by hiding his entire body the woman has neither changed her chant nor altered the aura of her magic even slightly.

The scene in front of him is confusing and aggravating. Although Stiles has seen a lot ( _a lot_ ) during the past years, the actions taking place in front of his eyes easily makes the top five- list. It has something to do with the way Derek’s dead uncle is leaning over Derek and not really the fact that three corpses of feral wolves has been scattered around the mage chanting in Latin. The nurse’s hands are coloured red by blood and her face looks dead while only her lips and right hand are moving. There is something haunting in the way she’s completely still and connects Derek and the uncle by some sort of complex spell.

And then there’s Derek. The werewolf is lying on the ground and with one glance it might looks as if he’s sleeping soundly. However, Stiles can decipher the distressed signals Derek’s sending out. They are coming off him in waves and are mixed with confusion, fright and pain.

It’s hard for Stiles to stop himself from not intervening right away. An instinct tells Stiles to rush forward and wreak havoc but his much more sensible mind tells him to wait. There is no way in hell he’d be able to take on both the crazed uncle that he can’t make himself think of as simply “Peter” and the nurse pumped with all the power from at least five sacrificed feral wolves. No, Stiles has to be smart about this.

Still standing a few feet away from the uncle, he listens to the messy monologue. There are parts he assumes are bat shit crazy and then there’s parts that he assumes only Derek understands. Stiles ignores the way Derek’s eyes are looking dim and bloodshot and the way he’s trying to form words but can’t even make a single sound.

With half an ear he’s listening to the raging chant in the background that is slightly frightening. Even if he knows quite a lot of Latin, these specific verses are mostly made up of words he’s only ever come across once or twice, which does not bode well.

It takes Peter a few minutes to come to the point.

“I won’t _kill_ you, stupid,” he says and rubs his hands together. “You’ll solely be put into a nice little state of… nothing. Kind of like how I was until dear Jennifer found me. Think of it as an exchange, Derek. I spent my time in the prison world and now it’s time for you to serve off your time for destroying the entire family. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

Stiles stops listening at those words. An exchange. _Of fucking course_. To get one brain dead person to be… not brain dead there needs to be a new brain dead person.

Without thinking too much about it, Stiles settles for the first plan that pops into his head.

“Jennifer, are we done here soon? I haven’t eaten for literally years,” the uncle declares dramatically and looks over to the nurse.

It’s in that instant, Stiles hugs the trigger on the gun he brought. Because of the werewolf’s quick reflexes, Stiles almost misses him but still hits solely a few inches away from the heart.

“You just fucking wait for me to be done with you, old man,” Stiles screams as he fires the second bullet laced with wolfsbane into the uncle, aiming for the heart. This time, the werewolf is already slowed down from the first bullet and probably still weak from being dead-like for the past several years, so the bullet goes through. With a pained expression the uncle falls down onto the leaves next to Derek who still seems to be breathing.

Stiles steps back into the shadows as the nurse stops chanting and turns her cold demeanour towards him. She’s standing in the middle of the sacrifices with literal blood splashed on her hands, looking right through him.

It takes Stiles half a second to once again find the trail of the magic the nurse used on Derek and he starts to rapidly untie the large knot of strange Latin. He’s rambling counter spells and defence words like a maniac while still trying to uphold his nearly invisible façade of nothing. Stiles’ left hand is as usually going crazy while scrolling through and pronouncing the foreign words that don’t really fit in his mouth.

The energy in Derek has stopped decreasing but Stiles can no longer feel his mind wander, which isn’t good. It’s not good at all, actually. However, he can’t let that distract him because if he wants both him and Derek to make it out of there alive he needs to be focused.

Blood is pumping through his body and the rush in his head is helping him focus on one thing. In front of him, the nurse has started moving again. She moves forward with long, elegant strides that mismatch her clothes and hair that’s everywhere. Without as much of a look down, she carelessly walks right over the torso of a feral wolf. The forest is cold and wet which Stiles first notices when a shiver runs through his body as the woman moves closer. She fixates her wide eyes on him and then closes them. Since she now seem to know his hiding spot, Stiles drops his cloak of invisibility and feels a few pounds drop from the heavy load on his shoulders.

Without as much of a flinch she starts to raise her right hand. Once again, her biting blue eyes are open and she is looking him dead in the eyes. Stiles can feel the adrenaline pound in his ears and he can now he can safely assume that she is lost. Her eyes are looking creepily much like a school book example of a lost witch. The magic has taken over her. He’s not seen it happen before but he has read about it. A rather weak mage trying to take up more and more magic and then in the end, there’s not really a lot of the former human left. Instead, it’s more of a walking bomb full of magic with one strict goal in sight. They’ll stop at nothing.

However, Stiles knows that weaker mages may not have the same knowledge as him. He lets the magic that a few seconds ago was holding up his invisibility wander off, towards the mage. There, he can feel her presence. Instead of a whole human being she feels like a big ball of yarn. There are loose strings filled with magic everywhere and without a single thought he starts to drag at the ends.

Then Stiles feels suffocated. His body is slowly being pressed together and some of his joints crack. He swallows as some sort of claustrophobia starts to kick in. Ignoring the panic that is trying to overtake his mind, he continues to drag at the ends of the yarn and he can feel some of the magic doing him good as he consumes some of it. The nurse doesn’t seem to notice Stiles desperately trying to untie her mess of stolen energy and she just continues by slowly, so very slowly, squeezing him together like a plush toy.

When Stiles literally can’t breathe anymore he starts to shout the counter spells. In just a second he can feel the nurse’s grip loosen and he wishes she could at least show a little emotion, some sort of defeat. The dirty energy he’s stealing from her strengthens him and when the mage in front of him lifts her other hand to make a move, Stiles is already prepared and blocks the wave that’s reaching for his head. He makes a quick adjustment to the spell and redirects it in her direction. At last, the nurse makes an expression. Her face is red by now and her left arm is trembling slightly. She takes another step towards him, over a ripped off head that’s bluntly staring out into the dark forest around them.

The knot of magic is getting smaller. The nurse drops the spell that’s been pressing into Stiles and instead she presses both her hands together as hard as she can for a short moment.

That moment of freedom is all Stiles needs. He drags the magic towards himself and gathers as much as he can. And then, he shoots it all out towards her before she has the time to fully gather all of her strength. Surprised, she starts to try and hold his magic away from her by pushing hers against his but since he’s already stole a lot of her power and is now pressing it against her, she stumbles there.

Magic battles are never as epic as they seem in movies. There are no light bolts shooting out from their hands and there are no cool visual effects in the real world. Instead, there is sweat breaking out from Stiles’ forehead and he feels warm and sticky. The magic flowing from him is not pulsing and deep but rather desperate and runny like water. He’s out of breath and does not at all feel powerful when the mage in front of him drops down to her knees. Because despite his best efforts to stand still when he can feel the nurse’s magic implode and leaves her like a burnt out shell of a human, Stiles also falls to the ground covered in damp leaves. The magic rushes all around to try and heal his wounds and fill his energy but he knows that his body cannot handle the stress and the fatigue. Stiles’ head is hurting and when the world starts to spin he quickly looks around to try to locate Derek again. The fast spinning of his head hurts and makes him dizzy. However, he still manages to find Derek lying wounded on the ground, coughing and seemingly conscious. After having forced his legs to work again, all it takes is a few staggering steps towards and then Stiles kneeling besides the werewolf.

His shaking hands are reaching out, clasping Derek’s face and he tries to muster up the energy to smile. Derek’s eyes finds his and it takes Stiles a little time to find words.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

Derek’s voice is hoarse and after he’s spoken he seems to be a little more alive.

“Idiot,” Stiles says fondly and smacks Derek over the chest.

Then they stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. Stiles’ hand that’s still resting on Derek’s chest is burning a little as the edges of Stiles’ vision is starting to get blurry.

And then, at the end of the eternity, it’s Stiles’ turn to pass out.

*****

“Stiles!”

“Derek! Stiles!”

Derek looks up from watching Stiles’ slump body that’s draped over him. Within half a second, Scott along with Isaac, Lydia, Erica and Allison is standing in front of him. Scott rushes forwards and starts to check up on Stiles, touching him all over. Derek has to hold himself back to not growl at the alpha.

“He passed out,” Derek says empty. Scott looks up and eyes Derek.

“I’m fine.” Derek nods his head down a little, looking at the passed out Stiles. His heart clenches a little. The wolf in his head has once again woken up and there are so many instincts he has to fight down.

“They are both dead,” Lydia declares a few feet to the right and Derek looks over, only now taking in the sight. His body is stiff and everything hurts. A hand is absently touching Stiles’ hair, needing the constant conformation that he’s still there, still breathing, still going to be fine. _Going to be fine, going to be fine._

“Seriously though, did she _has_ to just mess this whole place up so badly? This will be such a headache to clean up,” Lydia sights and Allison gives her a look. Both of them looks a little chocked and Derek can smell the nerves and concern for Stiles. Once again, Derek’s eyes retreat to Stiles. He can hear the even heart beat and it keeps him from not freaking out. It still feels as if Derek is numb and he doesn’t really know how to react, too chocked to actually understand most of it.

Allison, who’s standing next to Scott, then kneels down and touches Derek’s shoulder gently.

“Are you able to stand up?” The concern in her voice touches Derek and his eyes turn towards her.

“I don’t know,” he admits sheepishly and tries to move his legs. Scott leans over a little bit and grabs a hold of Stiles. _Mine_.

A low growl slips out of Derek before he remembers to contain himself and pushes back the instincts. Scott gives him a look before swinging Stiles awkwardly over his shoulder.

Derek pushes himself up and then stands on wavering legs that doesn’t feel safe. His eyes are on Stiles, watching the way his limp body is just hanging over _Scott’s_ shoulder.

“Isaac, Lydia, you two start cleaning this up. We will come and help you once me and Allison get these two to safety,” Scott says and then starts walking. He seems way too calm to be having a passed out Stiles over his shoulder.

Allison offers Derek an arm and with a bit of hesitation he accepts the help. Together, they slowly limp to the house and even if Derek still feels chocked, tense and stressed over Stiles he feels something else. Warmth and family. He’s not alone.

*****

Scott leaves after having dropped Stiles on the couch and then carefully put a blue blanket over the mage. However, Allison stays. She sits Derek down on the couch, next to Stiles and then walks towards the kitchen. Derek swallows and looks down at Stiles lying next to him. A hand reaches out again, first touching Stiles’ eyelids, then his forehead and then his lips. His heartbeat still beats evenly and it calms Derek down a bit.

“We’re used to him passing out,” Allison says as she returns to the living room with a cup of tea and a small jar of something that smells strange. She puts the cup of steaming tea down in front of Derek and opens the lid of the jar.

“The first times, we were hysterical and every time he woke up he would laugh at us, telling us that we didn’t need to worry about him. One time, he even scolded Lydia for forgetting his phone out in the woods when he went down after fight.” Allison smiles at Derek and then puts two fingers in the jar.

“I guess it’s the way it works. He’s never really explained the reason why he collapses but he always ends up fine. However, he usually recovers quicker with this on him.” Allison strokes the thick cream on Stiles’ forehead, his hands and on his temples.

She then straightens up once again and looks over at Derek.

“Are you sure that you’re fine?”

Derek nods.

“Okay, then drink the tea up. I need to head back to the forest again. We’ll be back soon. Rest,” she says and then leaves the room with a small smile.

Derek’s hand continues stroking Stiles’ hair while he’s studying Stiles’ face closely. The wolf has settled down and even if it’s a little wary it’s also calmer than it has been for a long time.

After what feels like yet another eternity, Stiles’ eyes opens slightly. The mage blinks a few times and then smiles a tired smile.

“Hey,” Derek whispers.

“Hey,” Stiles whispers back and then smiles again before moving his body towards Derek, placing his head in Derek’s lap.

“Thank you,” Derek whispers. _Thank you for saving me, thank you for being here,_ thank you _._

Stiles snorts.

“Well, I it would’ve made it a whole lot harder to be snuggling right now if you were a brain dead wolf,” he says with a voice full of sleep and affection.

“Idiot,” Derek says.

“Idiot,” Stiles shoots back and then closes his eyes again. After a few minutes, he’s asleep.

*****


End file.
